Sacrifices
by Carol
Summary: A ruthless gang of terrorists holds the Agency hostage causing deadly consequences for Darien that could change the lives of the under-funded six forever
1. Prologue

Sacrifices (Prologue)

By Carol M.

Summary: A ruthless group of terrorists holds the Agency hostage causing deadly consequences for Darien that could change the lives of the under-funded six forever

Spoilers: New Stuff, maybe others

Timeline: 3rd season

Rating: PG-13 to R

Disclaimer: Don't own them, only play with them.

Note: Yeah, I know, it's not Devil's Silver, but the plot bunnies had a fight and this one won. DS #10 will be coming soon, I promise. As for this one, it has a little bit of everything. Lots of torture, angst, suspense, h/c, and a few surprises. Be warned, it gets a little tense in some parts. BTW, I made up all the little spy gadgets and some of the bad guy weapons featured in this story. If any of this stuff really exists, I don't know about it. Anyways, go dig out the climbing gear and enjoy!

__

If I had to choose between betraying my country and betraying my friend, I hope I should have the guts to betray my country." E.M. Forster- Two Cheers for Democracy 

Prologue

In the end, it was only a small, unimpressive looking silver box. It reminded him of one of those graphing calculators that Eberts sometimes liked to use for tricky budget work. Hell, the thing even looked like a calculator with its number pad and small glass screen.

The Official had been staring at the small box that sat on his desk for over an hour with looks of pride, disgust and confusion spreading across his face at various intervals. He didn't know whether to be insulted or extremely honored to have this silver box in his possession. Of course, that didn't matter now. It was his job to protect it, whether he wanted the job or not.

He glanced to the left of the box and stared at two small slips of papers with the same number scrawled across the top in black ink. 26693368513111980. A number that could save. A number that could kill.

The Official's head shot up as he heard the door to his office open and Bobby and Alex walked in. He eyed them with a glare of annoyance. "There's a door there for a reason, kiddies," he grumbled.

Bobby looked at the door and then glanced apologetically at the Official. "If you want, we can go back out and come back in. After we knock, of course, sir," said Bobby as he pointed at the door.

Alex crossed her arms in annoyance and sank down into one of the chairs in front of the Official's desk. "You wanted to see us? You said it was urgent?" she said in a casual tone.

The Official nodded. "Yes," he said as he glanced at Bobby, who was still eyeing the door with uncertainty. "Hobbes, sit," he said in a firm tone.

"Oh…yes sir," he said as he stepped towards the chair next to Alex and promptly sat down.

The Official cleared his throat and reached for the silver box, holding it up in the air. "Are either of you familiar with a Blaster Box?"

Bobby raised an eyebrow. "Blaster Box, chief?"

Alex sat back in her chair and crossed one leg over the other. "It's a security box put out by the CIA less then six months ago. It's supposed to be the most uncrackable portable safe ever invented."

The Official smiled. "Yes, that's right."

Alex glanced at Bobby and gave him a smug smirk. Bobby retorted with a disgusted glance and then gazed at the Official. "So what's this Blaster Box have to do with us?"

The Official set the box back down on his desk. "The CIA has graciously allowed us to temporarily safeguard it for them. The contents of this box has been a very hot commodity in certain terrorists rings and there are at least a hundred people who would like to get their greedy paws on it."

"What exactly is in the box, sir?" asked Alex. 

"A disk," said the Official with hesitation.

Bobby gave the Official a confused glance. "You care to elaborate, chief?"

The Official leaned forward and gave them both a serious glance. "What I'm about to tell you and ask of you could put both of your lives in jeopardy. If you're not willing to pay the ultimate price for the contents of this box and for your country, then leave now."

Bobby and Alex glanced at one another unfazed and then both turned their heads back to the Official. "We're in, what's in there?" asked Bobby.

"A disk containing the names of every U.S. intelligence mission in operation and every undercover agent working for the Federal government across the world," said the Official.

Bobby let out a small appreciative whistle and leaned back in his chair. "Whoa."

"Exactly," said the Official.

"Why us? Why does the CIA want this Pandora's Box here at Fish and Game?" asked Bobby.

"The CIA determined that this would be the least likely suspect for a terrorists retrieval. We're a nothing organization with a nothing budget. Who would think to look here for a piece of Intel worth millions, billions?" said the Official.

"Okay, so we know why it's here? Why do you need us?" asked Alex.

The Official picked up the box again. "The disk was put into this box a week ago after an unsuccessful attempt from an extremist group to get their hands on it. There are only two people, including myself, who know how to open it. You two are about to become the third and fourth," said the Official.

Bobby leaned forward and snatched the box from the Official's hand. He examined it carefully and then set it back on the desk. "Couldn't some terrorist blast their way through this? Or hook it up to a computer to isolate the code?"

The Official shook his head. "Nope. Computer won't crack it and an explosion would destroy the box and the contents inside. The only way to open the box is to know the code." He picked up the two pieces of paper that had been sitting next to the box and gave Bobby and Alex a fierce glance. "I need two other people to know the code for a backup in case something happens to me. I chose the two of you because you both have been extensively trained to withstand torture techniques, and I consider you both to be extremely trustworthy. By taking and memorizing the number on these papers, you put this box ahead of your life and the life of anyone else. The information on this disk comes before you. Do you both understand?"

Bobby and Alex both nodded.

"Good," said the Official as he handed the papers over to Bobby and Alex. "It goes without saying that the code should be memorized and the paper destroyed."

"Not a problem, chief," said Bobby as he stared at the paper. He looked up and gave the Official a pleased smile. "May I just say, sir, that being chosen for this particular job is a great honor. I won't let you down."

"No, you're not getting a raise, Hobbes," said the Official.

"Sir, I can't believe you would even think I would ask for a raise over something like this," said Bobby.

The Official looked at Alex who was busy memorizing the numbers. She raised her head and handed the slip of paper back to the Official. "Got it," she said.

The Official pulled a lighter out of his desk drawer and set the paper on fire. He threw it into an empty trashcan next to his desk.

Bobby quickly looked down at his own piece of paper, a look of intense concentration on his face. After a few minutes, he too handed his paper back to the Official. After another small fire in the trash can, the Official shoved the lighter back in his desk and folded his hands across his lap. "You two have done your country a great service today. Don't let me down," said the Official as he picked up the silver box once again and turn his chair to the Fish and Game seal behind him. He took down the round wooden emblem and opened the safe in the wall behind it.

Bobby raised his hand. "Um, sir, shouldn't you be putting that in a more secure place? I mean come on, Fawkes could get that thing open in ten seconds flat," said Bobby.

The Official shoved the box inside the safe, locked it and replaced the seal over it. He turned back around and glared at Bobby. "You're observation is noted Mr. Hobbes, but I want this thing as close to me as humanly possible until the CIA takes it back."

"Do you really think that's wise?" asked Bobby.

"Enough, the matter is closed," warned the Official. "Don't you two have an assignment to finish up?"

"Yes, sir," said Bobby and Alex simultaneously.

"Well get on it," said the Official firmly.

Bobby and Alex both stood up from their chairs and headed towards the door.

"Hobbes…Monroe…not a word of this to anyone. Not Fawkes, not the doctor, not even Eberts. I'm trusting you two to help me keep this thing safe and most of all, a secret," said the Official.

Bobby smiled confidently. "Don't worry, we've got it covered, sir," he said. He walked out the door with Alex following behind.

The Official stretched back in his chair and shivered slightly as he glanced at the charred bits of paper in his wastebasket. The lives of millions lay on his shoulders. He just prayed that he had made the right choice with Bobby and Alex.

TBC


	2. Part 1

Sacrifices (1/?)

By Carol M.

See prologue for details

Two months later

It was a lone black van sitting two blocks away from the Agency. There were eight men crammed into the small space of the van, sharing air and body odor. They were all dressed in identical black shirts and pants, all holding the same gun and all wearing thermal glasses.

The head of the group, a tall black-haired man with intense green eyes, sat in the front seat humming softly to himself. He glanced down at his watch and then turned around to look at his men. "We go in thirty, guys. The place should be fully occupied by then," he said. He turned back around and stared at the small television screen sitting on the passenger's seat. The picture on the screen flipped back and forth between the hallways of the Agency, the Keep, the Official's office and the elevators. 

It was easy to get cameras into a location when you were the person in charge of installing new security measures for the Harding Building. In fact, it was amazing the things you could learn just by eavesdropping on bits of conversations in the halls of the Agency. Trey Thornton knew everything there was to know about the Agency in a little over a month. He knew exactly what had to be done to get what he wanted.

Trey leaned over the passenger's seat and reached underneath it, pulling out a small briefcase. He opened the briefcase and smiled slightly as he looked at the ten vials of a purple liquid neatly tucked into the black case. He reached further under the seat and pulled out a black bag filled with tazers, billy clubs, timers, wires and bits of plastique. Everything he needed. He glanced at his watch. 10:35. Only 25 more minutes to go. 

**

"I'm telling you man, it doesn't matter anymore," said Darien as he and Bobby entered the front doors of the Agency.

"What do you mean it doesn't matter? How can it not matter?" asked Bobby with confusion. He walked next to Darien down the hall, heading towards the elevator. "Oh what, so you're going to tell me now that you don't care?"

Darien smiled and nodded his head. "Yep."

"You're nuts, Fawkes. Absolutely cuckoo," said Bobby.

"Not any more, my friend," said Darien as he popped a piece of gum in his mouth.

Bobby eyed him suspiciously. "What are you hiding from me?"

Darien gave him a look of innocence. "What the hell are you talking about?"

Bobby shook his head. "No, no, don't give me that, okay. Something happened, so you need to spill it. I'm your partner, I'm supposed to know these things," said Bobby matter of factly.

Darien stopped walking and braced both his hands on Bobby's shoulders. "Hobbesy, it's nothing okay. I've gotta go see the Keep," he said, stepping away from Bobby.

Bobby sighed. "Come on, man that's not right. As your partner and best friend, I think I have the right to know."

Darien turned around and gave him a sly grin. "Let's just say I've got some control."

Bobby raised an eyebrow. "Control?" He stared at Darien for a few minutes and then a wry look of amusement spread across his face. "Well it's about time partner. Took you long enough. So who's going to be the first lucky lady to take you out for a test drive."

Darien glanced at his watch. "Well, we do have fifteen minutes 'til the meeting. I suppose that gives Claire and I enough time," he said, trailing off in a teasing tone.

"You wouldn't," said Bobby, his face raging in jealousy.

Darien shrugged. "I don't know, man. She is pretty sexy and she's always giving me these lustful looks. Maybe we should take our relationship to the next level."

"Do it and die, my friend," interrupted Bobby.

Darien smiled. "I'm kidding, buddy. You know that. Now go. I'll see ya in a bit," he said. He turned the corner and started walking towards the metal door of the Keep.

"Yeah, yeah you better be kidding, my friend or Bobby Hobbes will come and kick you in the old cojones. Then it won't matter if you've got control or not," he yelled down the hall in a threatening tone as he stepped into the elevator. He rolled his eyes in annoyance as the elevator doors shut in front of him.

Darien laughed slightly and fished around in his pocket for his keycard to the Keep. He finally found it and swiped it through the slot of the Keep door, causing the heavy piece of metal to swish open. He saw Claire sitting at her desk working at her computer. "Hello, Ms. Keeply. How are you this fine Monday?" asked Darien as he sauntered over to the counteragent chair.

"Wow," said Claire as she glanced at Darien's happy face. "What happened to you?" she asked as she got up from the chair and walked over to the counteragent chair.

Darien flushed slightly. "Well, let's just say I might be able to have my way with the ladies again. Civilian ladies," he pointed out.

A brief look of jealousy clouded Claire's features, followed quickly by a bright smile. "Congratulations, Darien. I'm very happy for you," she said as she began rooting around in the top drawer of a cabinet next to the counteragent chair.

"Thank you, thank you very much," said Darien as he took a deep breath and settled back into the chair.

Claire stepped beside him, holding a huge needle. "Which arm would you like me to use?"

Darien glanced down at both of his arms, smiling at the lack of track marks that for almost two years had marred the crooks of both his elbows. "The right I guess. Just don't take too much. Blood loss makes me woozy."

Claire nodded and then tied the familiar rubber strap around his right arm over the crook of his elbow. She eyed a vein and expertly slid the needle in, pulling the plunger up to suck his blood into the vial.

Darien hissed and turned away, not wanting to look at the blood being drained from his body.

After a few minutes, Claire carefully removed the needle and undid the strap around Darien's bicep. She took the vial of blood over to her microscope and poured a tiny amount on a slide. Then she sat down and began peering intently at the sample.

Darien remained in the chair, wiping a cotton ball over the puncture mark from the needle. He watched Claire as she studied his blood, noting the casual pair of jeans and red shirt covering her frame. He looked down at his own casual wardrobe, which consisted of a tight-fitting gray T-shirt and khaki pants. Ever since they had all come back to the Agency, things had been much more relaxed and fun. Darien couldn't have been happier.

Claire poked her head up from the microscope and looked at Darien. "Well, you're blood is showing an extremely high level of quicksilver in your body. I want to keep track of the amounts in your blood to make sure there aren't any side effects. If there are, we might be able to use the counteragent to flush out some of the excess quicksilver."

"Shots again?" asked Darien, crinkling his forehead in slight fear.

"Not necessarily. We don't really know how these levels of quicksilver are going to effect your body in the long run. There might be no effect. It's just something to keep an eye on, that's all," said Claire in a gentle tone.

"Yeah well, if we can help it, I would prefer not returning to my status as a human pin cushion," he said sarcastically.

Claire smiled and looked back down into the microscope.

Darien was about to ask her about her weekend when he heard the sound of gunfire coming from outside. "What the hell was that?" he asked as he got off the chair and headed towards the door.

Claire looked up from her microscope with a look of horror on her face. She dashed towards one of her cabinets and pulled out a gun. She began searching through the drawer for bullets, but came up empty. "Darien, what's going on?" she whispered tensely.

Darien shrugged in confusion as he heard the sounds of footsteps approaching the Keep door. Darien stuck out his hand and let the quicksilver flow onto the metal door, effectively turning it invisible. They saw a group of armed men wearing thermals and carrying explosive devices heading straight for the Keep. 

"We know you're in there," said one of the men as he saw Darien through the door. Darien quickly let the quicksilver drop from the door.

Claire eyed Darien in a panic. "Bloody hell! What do we do?" she asked.

Before he had time to answer, the Keep door was blown apart by a small explosion. The force of the blast sent both Darien and Claire roughly to the ground. Darien whacked his head on a desk and was instantly knocked out. 

Claire received a blow as well, but didn't lose consciousness. She coughed as the smoke from the blast invaded her lungs and made her eyes water. She could make out the blurry images of the terrorists entering the Keep. She glanced up at one of the men in a daze as he picked her off the floor and dragged her out the door. She looked down at the end of the hallway and saw the bodies of Jack and Clay, two of the Agency's security guards, laying in a bloody pool by the door.

As she was slowly dragged down the hall, Claire's head started to clear and she realized what was happening. She began to struggle wildly in the arms of her captor. "Darien," she cried out, looking back at the man dragging Darien's limp form down the hall. "Stop it, you bastards," she cried as she clamped down on the hand of the man holding her and bit his finger. 

He cried out and slapped her across the face. "Don't do that again, bitch."

Trey, who was leading the group down the hall, turned around with a smile on his face. "Let's go upstairs and meet the rest of your friends, shall we Miss Keeply."

Claire's response was a fear-filled moan.

**

"Hobbes, what the hell is that?" asked Alex as she heard the sounds of gunfire coming from downstairs. She and Bobby had been heading to the Official's office when the explosions and gunfire had started.

"That's bad news, Monroe," said Bobby as he pulled out his gun. Alex did the same and followed Bobby towards the Official's office. They slammed through the door with their guns drawn. "Sir, I think we're being taken over," yelled Bobby as he saw the Official and Eberts inhaling Chinese food.

The Official glanced up from his lunch with a look of panic on his face. "Where's Fawkes?"

"Downstairs, chief, with the Keep," answered Bobby.

"Get them, get them now," said the Official as he picked up the phone. His face paled when he didn't get a dial tone. "It's dead."

"Come on, Monroe," said Bobby as he dashed out the door. "Lock the door, sir," Bobby yelled over his shoulder. Alex quickly followed.

"Sir, what's going on?" asked Eberts as he ran to the door and locked it.

The Official sighed and stared at Eberts with a look of fear on his face. "Terrorist retrieval," he said as he reached into his desk and pulled out a gun.

Meanwhile, Bobby and Alex were standing outside the elevator, watching as the numbers above the doors moved up from the first floor. They each stood on a side, their guns ready to fire. "Watch out, they might have Fawkes or Claire," said Bobby. Alex nodded and took a deep breath.

The elevator beeped and they both tensed waiting for the door to open. When it finally did, Bobby swung around and aimed his gun into the elevator. "Freeze," he yelled. 

He was greeted with the sight of Trey holding a gun to the head of his barely conscious partner. "Drop it now," said the man in a cool tone.

Bobby did what he was told and dropped his weapon, eyeing his partner with concern.

Alex ducked back and waited for the man to walk out of the elevator. When he did, she came up behind him and was about to hit him over the head with her gun when a shock of pain tore through her back. As she fell to the ground she saw that her attacker had been hiding on top of the elevator. Another man jumped down from the top, aiming a tazer at Bobby's neck. She tried to call out a warning, but lacked the strength. Bobby screamed in pain and fell next to her on the ground.

Bobby and Alex felt themselves being dragged down the hall towards the Official's office, but were enable to move due to the effect of the stun guns. They saw the stairwell door open, revealing a terrorist holding a kicking and screaming Claire. Several other mooks followed behind them with their guns drawn and ready to fire.

The coworkers were all roughly dragged to the door of the Official's office. Trey dropped Darien to the floor and tried the doorknob. When he couldn't open it, he took out his gun and blew away the glass. Then he picked up Darien and pushed him through the door.

The Official and Eberts both stared in shock as Darien's body crash landed on the floor amongst a sea of broken glass. The gun dropped from the Official's hand as Bobby, Alex and Claire were dragged into the office by the heavily armed terrorists. The men went about handcuffing Bobby, Alex and Claire into chairs.

Darien, who was beginning to regain consciousness, was picked off the floor and handcuffed into a chair as well. Another one of the men stepped to Eberts and roughly sat him down in a chair, cuffing his hands behind his back. Eberts glanced at the Official with a look of terror.

Rage surged through the Official's veins as he too was handcuffed. "What do you want?" he asked, eyeing Trey.

Trey nodded towards the seal behind the Official. "I think you know what I want '_fish_."

TBC


	3. Part 2

Sacrifices (2/?)

By Carol M.

See prologue for details

Hold on, kiddies, it's about to get pretty intense! Enjoy it!

Trey looked around the room, eyeing his hostages with a wicked gleam in his eye. His gaze turned to the desks and tables, which were taking up the majority of space in the small office. He nodded towards two of his men. "Get these out of here," he said, pointing at the bulky furniture.

The men complied to his respect and began hauling out the furniture, carelessly tossing it out in the hall. When the room was cleared, Trey exhaled dramatically. "Much better. Now I have room to think," he said.

He glanced at his men, who were all standing in the doorway. "Matthews, Hart, Vore, Jones…stay in here. Cohen, Ryker…patrol the halls. Robinson and Keifer, go downstairs and keep watch." The men quickly scattered to their ordered positions. As Keifer walked out the door, he handed Trey a black case.

As Matthews, Hart, Vore and Jones each situated themselves in various corners of the office, Bobby glanced at Alex and shook his head slightly. They both knew there wasn't going to be an easy way out of this one.

Trey grabbed a chair and set it in the middle of the room, setting the black case underneath it. He plopped down in the chair and began peering around the room. His gaze slowly traveled from the Official, who was sitting where his desk used to be, all the way over to Darien, who was sitting near the side door of the office. 

The Official also looked around the room, eyeing the guards and noticing the look of complete ruthlessness on all their faces. He concluded, like Bobby, that this was going to get bad. Very bad. He cleared his throat and looked up at Trey. "What you think you're going to get, you're not. I would suggest not wasting your time and ours with this ridiculous charade, son."

Trey smiled widely. "That's pretty much what I expected from you, Charlie. Total denial. Don't be ashamed. It's a totally respectable reaction for a person like you when confronted with a person like me. One problem though, the camera doesn't lie," he said as he pointed to the camera in the upper right corner of the room.

The Official clenched his jaw, but didn't respond.

Darien snorted. "I'm sorry, but I thought the camera was supposed to add ten pounds, not tell the truth," he said sarcastically.

Trey got out of his chair and stepped to Darien, backhanding him harshly across the face.

Bobby winced and Claire cried out, but Alex, Eberts and the Official remained silent.

Darien winced as he experimentally wiggled his lip and spit out a few droplets of blood on the floor.

"Your boss might tolerate that kind of lip, but I won't," said Trey in a menacing tone.

Darien glanced up at Trey and smiled pleasantly. "Yes, sir. It won't happen again, sir," he said in a sickeningly sweet voice.

Bobby gave Darien a sharp look. "Knock it off, Fawkes," he whispered through clenched teeth.

Trey glanced at Bobby and then looked back at Darien. "Your partner is a very wise man, Mr. Fawkes."

Darien tilted his head to the side. "Yeah well, what can I say? This is my first hostage situation," he replied.

Trey stepped to Darien and put a gun to his head, which caused Darien to flinch and squeeze his eyes shut. "You keep it up and this will be your last."

Eberts let out a small yelp, while Claire and Bobby stared helplessly over at Darien. Alex busied herself staring at the floor, trying to block out what was happening. 

The Official watched all of this and cleared his throat, trying to divert the attention off of Darien. "How is it that you were able to watch us, Mr…" he trailed off and looked at Trey for an answer.

"Thornton," said Trey as he stepped away from Darien, taking the gun away from his head. Darien visibly relaxed into his chair, sharing a look of relief with Bobby.

"Trey Thornton," Trey continued. "Of course you understand that's just an alias."

The Official nodded. "Of course."

Trey pointed to the camera in the corner of the office once again. "See that's the thing about 

government contractors. They're greedy. Throw a little money their way and they'll do just about anything, including giving up the job to someone like me. You let us in here and you didn't even know it. Let me hook up the cameras and splice into them for a little home viewing. The things I learned about all of you…I could write a best selling novel," snickered Trey.

The Official grumbled and shared a look of chagrin with Eberts.

Bobby looked at Trey, clearing his throat loudly. "Uh…Mr. Thornton, you still haven't told us what you want. I've got a self defense seminar at three, and I would hate to miss it."

Trey grinned. "Oh that's easy." He walked over to the Fish & Game seal behind the Official and quickly removed it, revealing the safe. Then he took out his gun and fired one shot at the safe, effectively cracking it open. He pulled out the silver box and looked at the Official. "Really should find a better hiding place for this, Charlie. I must've seen you take this thing in and out of the safe at least ten times," said Trey.

The Official clenched his eyes shut in anger and then reopened them, giving Trey a murderous glare.

Trey ignored him and held up the box. "You asked what I want, Mr. Hobbes? I want the code to open this box."

Bobby and Alex both tried to act nonchalant, while Darien and Claire exchanged confused looks. Eberts looked over at the Official with his eyebrows raised.

The Official shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "What makes you think we know the code? What makes you think the Federal government would trust us with such an important piece of intelligence?" asked the Official.

"Because it's your job to protect it. Standard protocol in this instance would call for the head of the organization to know the code along with at least one back up in case of your untimely demise." Trey began pacing the room. "Now I asked myself, who would know the code besides you, sir?" Trey looked expectantly at the Official.

The Official shrugged his shoulders and stared straight ahead, trying to ignore Trey.

Trey continued on. "You could have given it to your desk jockey here," he said, pointing at Eberts.

Eberts gave him a nervous frown.

"But I doubt this guy could keep a surprise party secret, let alone a piece of intelligence as classified as this code," said Trey. He walked over to Claire, who was giving Trey an icy glare. "You might have given it to the doctor here. The Keep, Keepie, Keeper, whatever it is you ladies and gentlemen like to call her. She seems strong, intelligent," Trey reached a hand out and ran it through Claire's hair," perfectly capable of keeping a secret," he continued.

Bobby started to struggle wildly in his chair, while Darien gave an audible gasp of horror.

Trey went on. "But of course, what would be the point? I'm sure your cheapskate boss wouldn't have spent the money to have a doctor trained to withstand standard interrogation and torture techniques. And by the look on your face, I would hazard a guess that you have no idea what's in that box."

Claire looked straight ahead and didn't reply.

Satisfied, Trey walked away from Claire and stepped in front of Darien. "Now you I've been struggling with. The Invisible Man himself. I must say, the first time I saw you quicksilver in the Keep, it nearly took my breath away," said Trey, slightly awestruck.

Darien smirked. "Glad I could entertain you, I'm here all week. You might want to call ahead and get tickets though because my shows almost always sell out."

Trey nodded. "See that's your giveaway; that junior high wit you're so fond of using. You're nothing more than a glorified quarterback for this Agency and you know it. You're a civilian who got lucky. I don't think your boss would be willing to give the code to his most valuable player and take the chance that someone would somehow break you," said Trey. He gave Darien a sharp up and down glance. "Something tells me that you would've broken very easily," said Trey as he stepped away from Darien.

Darien rolled his eyes as Trey stepped between Bobby and Alex. "Which brings me to you two," he said, glancing down at the agents. "Both highly trained field operatives with experience in a multitude of arenas and agencies. Patriotic, loyal, strong. You're the perfect trustworthy employees. Inoculated against any and all interrogation techniques. Willing to go to the grave for your country," said Trey. He looked them both in the eyes. "It's one of you. Or maybe both of you."

Alex smiled at Trey. "Wow, did you figure that out all by yourself?" she asked in a sweet tone.

Bobby nudged her slightly.

Trey returned the smile. "Why as a matter of fact I did, Miss Monroe. It seems to put you, Mr. Hobbes and your boss at a bit of a disadvantage, don't you think?"

Alex shook her head and looked at the floor.

Trey stepped back into the middle of the room and sighed. "What do you say we make this real easy? One of you give me the code now, and we'll all be on our merry way."

An eerie silence pervaded the room. Darien glanced at Claire, who gave him a helpless look. His gaze turned to Eberts, who was looking just as clueless as Claire. He moved his eye to Bobby and Alex, who were both projecting a similar lack of emotion. Finally, he looked at the Official, who was staring at Trey with daggers in his eyes.

Trey was looking around the room as well and after several minutes of silence, he sat back down in his chair. "Well, I guess I should take that as a no."

Darien shared an awkward glance with the Official and then looked at Trey with a look of curiosity on his face. "What exactly is in the box?" he asked.

Trey palmed the box back and forth in his hands. "The name of every U.S. government intelligence mission and every undercover agent working around the world today."

"Oh, is that all?" said Darien nonchalantly. "See, I'm thinking that none of my fellow co-workers are going to give you what you want here, my friend. Maybe you should get your buddies and get the hell out of here before the Marines storm in and bust your ass," he said in a smug tone.

Trey smirked. "Oh, I wouldn't worry too much Mr. Fawkes. I planned for every possible contingency, including a couple of tight-lipped government employees," said Trey. He reached under the chair and pulled out the black case. He set in on the chair and opened it, revealing the vials of purple liquid. He pulled out one of the vials and held it up in the air. "It's almost pretty, isn't it?" He pulled a syringe out of the case and filled it with the purple substance. "Ever hear of EL6?" he asked.

Bobby and Alex both winced. The Official shared a look of concern with Eberts and Claire. 

Trey saw their faces and nodded. "I thought so."

Darien, who was looking totally clueless, spoke up. "Um excuse me, someone want to clue me in here?"

Bobby looked in Darien's direction. "It's a torture drug, Fawkes. Causes intense pain and then death. Ten vials and you're a memory, my friend," answered Bobby grimly.

Trey picked up the case and flashed it around the room. "Well, what a coincidence. I just happen to have ten vials right here. " He set the box back down on the chair.

"Oh goody," said Darien.

Trey held up the syringe and began looking around the room. "Now, who to use this on?" A thoughtful expression spread across his features. "Maybe the boss man here," said Trey as he walked over to the Official.

Darien, who had been intently watching Trey, shifted his gaze to the other terrorists in the corners of the room. When he realized none of them were watching him, he nonchalantly let a small trickle of quicksilver drift from his wrist onto the handcuffs that bound him to the chair. If he could get the cuffs cold enough, he might be able to snap them off his wrist. He glanced over at Bobby and motioned to the cuffs with his eyes. Bobby nodded his head slightly. Darien shifted his gaze to Trey, who was holding the needle filled with EL6 dangerously close to the Official's neck.

The Official was too busy trying to keep calm to notice the subtle exchange between Darien and Bobby. "You're making a big mistake, Thornton. I'll die before I give you that code," said the Official. He visibly shuddered as he felt the needle rub against his skin. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes.

"I know," said Trey as he quickly moved the needle away from the Official's neck. The Official sagged in relief against the chair. Trey took a few steps to the left and put the needle near Eberts' neck, faking a stabbing motion. Eberts' head shot back, a huge grimace on his face. Trey grinned in amusement and moved on. He stepped over to Alex and rapidly placed the needle against her neck. Alex inhaled sharply and winced. "How many shots do you think it would take for her to break?" asked Trey in a threatening tone.

"Enough, Thornton," said Bobby menacingly. 

Trey pulled the needle away from Alex's neck and shifted it to Bobby's neck.

Darien watched all of this as the quicksilver slowly broke apart the bonds of the handcuffs. A couple more seconds and he would be free. He gazed frantically over at his partner who was desperately trying to keep his cool.

"What about you, tough guy? Are you willing to die?" asked Trey as he pushed the needle firmly against Bobby's neck.

Bobby winced. "You're damn right I am, my friend," he answered in a harsh tone.

The needle was quickly retracted from his neck. Trey stepped over to Claire and carefully inserted the needle completely into her neck. "I think the good doctor will do. I'm sure know of you want to see her suffer needlessly," said Trey.

Claire's face clenched in fear and her eyes welled up with tears. 

Bobby started struggling wildly with his handcuffs. "Don't hurt her, you bastard," he screamed.

"That's all up to you," said Trey as his finger moved to push down the plunger.

"No!" yelled Darien as he finally broke free of his handcuffs and dived at Trey. Trey saw the movement out of the corner of his eye and swiftly pulled the needle out of Claire's neck. When Darien crashed into him, he stabbed the needle into Darien's neck and pushed down the plunger.

"Fawkes!" yelled Bobby.

"Darien!" cried Claire.

Both Darien and Trey went crashing to the floor in a tangled heap of arms and legs. Trey's men all dashed forward with their guns aimed at Darien.

"No!" said Trey firmly, putting his hands in the air to stop the men from firing. He reached at the needle still sticking out of Darien's neck and pulled it out, causing a thin trail of blood to trickle from the puncture mark. "Not exactly what I had planned, but I think things will work out just fine," said Trey as he stood up from the floor.

Darien sat up and rubbed his arms, trying to get rid of an annoying tingling sensation that seemed to be effecting his whole body. When he felt the pain in his neck and realized that he had been injected, he gave Trey a look of horror. "Aw crap," he said in a panic as his skin started to burn like crazy.

"Darien," said Claire in a comforting tone.

"You're going to pay for this you son of a bitch!" yelled Bobby as he watched shivers start to wrack the body of his partner.

"It can all end right now, folks. You give me the code and Fawkes here just has a few minor boo boos," said Trey. "Any takers?"

The room was completely silent as Bobby, Alex and the Official exchanged fear-filled looks.

Darien took a deep breath and then screamed as the pain on his skin suddenly intensified. His body fell back to the floor in a pain-filled heap. "Claire, what's happening?" he whimpered in a scared tone.

"It'll be okay, Darien, I promise," she said in the most comforting tone possible. She glanced at Bobby, Alex and the Official, who were all busy staring at their feet. 

Trey bent down next to Darien. "What's happening, Mr. Fawkes, is the first stage of the serum. It makes the skin on your body feel as if it's being burnt off when in reality it's not. This is only the beginning."

"Oh god," moaned Darien as he rested his head against the floor and tried to relax.

"Hey, look on the bright side. It'll let you see just how much your friends and co-workers really care about you," said Trey. He glanced at the others. "Isn't that right, boys and girls?"

"You're going to die, my friend," said Bobby.

"Not today," said Trey coolly as he got up and sat back down in his chair. 

TBC


	4. Part 3

Sacrifices (3/?)

By Carol M.

See prologue for details

Note: So this part gets very intense. It might even be a little hard to read for some. I guess that's sort of the point. As the writer, I wanted the reader to feel like they were in this room going through the same events and emotions as the characters. Hopefully, I did my job. On with the story…

Alex would have done anything for a pair of earplugs. She was doing her best to block out the whimpers and moans coming from Darien on the floor. She refused to look at his lanky, writhing figure for fear that it would somehow affect her. Affect her right in the heart.

Bobby wasn't having that problem. In fact, he had spent the past twenty minutes trying to coach his partner through the pain. "Deep breaths, Fawkesy, deep breaths. You can do it, buddy," he said in a supportive tone as he stared down at his partner on the floor.

Darien lay on his side in a tiny sweat-covered ball, his heart racing so fast from the pain that on more then one occasion he had turned invisible. His whole world seemed to be consumed by the pain. It felt like he was lying in a pit of flames. He could hear his partner yelling at him, but his mind was having a hard time deciphering his words. He thought he could make out the words deep breaths. "Deep breaths, deep breaths," he repeated in a hoarse tone. In and out, in and out.

"Like you're fighting the madness, Fawkes," said Bobby.

Okay, fighting the madness. He had to get in that zone. That calm zone where he could block everything out. He began taking intensely deep breaths, breathing so hard that he thought he might pass out. Hmmm, passing out. That wouldn't be such a bad idea right about now.

Trey was watching all of this from his chair, his eyes observing the faces of all of his hostages. They were good; he would give them that. So far there was nothing in Bobby, Alex or the Official's expressions that said they would give up the code. He saw sorrow and guilt, but nothing to indicate they would break. It was time for a little incentive.

"Well, I think it's time for the next injection," said Trey as he reached for the black case and pulled out another vial of the purple liquid. He located the syringe and quickly filled it up.

Claire's eyes glistened with tears. "Please don't. Please don't hurt him anywhere," she said in the calmest voice possible.

Trey smiled and stepped to Darien with the syringe in his hand. "I'm not the one you should be saying that to, Ms. Keeply." He nodded towards the others. "They have the power to make this stop, not me," he said as he knelt down next to Darien.

Darien could feel Trey's presence looming over him and he quickly determined that it was not a good thing. He tried unsuccessfully to pick himself off the floor to get away, but his limbs refused to cooperate.

"Just another shot, Mr. Fawkes. Don't mind me," said Trey as he firmly grasped Darien's arm and pulled him up so his neck was exposed. He put the needle in Darien's neck and injected him with the contents. When he was done, he pushed Darien back to the floor and returned to his chair. "This next stage involves a feeling of pain and paralysis to the limbs. Your arms and legs will ache intensely and you will not be able to move for about twenty minutes. Don't panic, it's not permanent."

But panic is exactly what Darien did. For several seconds after the injection, the pain from his skin disappeared, leaving him blissfully free from the agony. Then an intense stabbing sensation seemed to build in his arms and legs. He tried to curl into a tiny ball, but realized that he couldn't move. His breath started coming in short pants and his heart began to race even faster. He quickly lost control of the gland and soon quicksilver was coating his entire body.

"Darien!" shouted Claire, trying unsuccessfully to mask her anger and worry. 

Everyone in the room could hear his pain-filled pants, but they couldn't actually see him, which somehow made the whole experience even harder.

Eberts glanced at the Official, a look of horror on his face. "Sir?" he said. "Perhaps one of you should give up the code."

The Official scowled at Eberts. "We will do no such thing. It's just pain. Fawkes will survive," he said in a cold tone. He would be damned if he would admit that the sounds of Darien's pain-filled whimpers had left him with a cold ache in his stomach that he knew would not be going away anytime soon.

"He might _not_ survive, sir," said Claire in a firm voice. "His heart won't be able to take this for much longer."

Their heads all snapped to the floor in horror as they heard Darien let out a gut wrenching sob.

Claire looked at Trey with a look of hatred gleaming from her eyes. "Uncuff me," she said simply.

Bobby and Alex both gave her a look of surprise.

"Why?" asked Trey, slightly intrigued.

"Because he shouldn't have to go through this alone," said Claire, tears trickling down her cheeks. "If I knew the code, you would have had it five seconds after the first injection."

"Very well," said Trey as he motioned to one of his men to uncuff her. Vore stepped forward and pulled out a key, which he used to remove Claire's cuffs.

As soon as she was free, Claire rubbed her wrists and knelt down on the floor, feeling for Darien. "Darien, I need you to come back. Come on, relax sweetheart, it'll be okay," she said as her hand finally found his chest.

Darien willed himself to take deep breaths and calm down. The quicksilver was shed several seconds later. 

Claire wasted no time in gathering him in her arms. She leaned his head against her shoulder and began running a comforting hand through his hair. "I know you can't move right now. That's to be expected, Darien. You're not paralyzed," she said soothingly as she put her head down against his shoulder. "Do you trust me?"

Darien clenched his eyes shut, trying to deal with the pain. He nodded his head up and down slowly, tears dripping down from under his eyelids. "Yeah," he whispered after several seconds.

"I'm going to get you through this, I promise. I won't let you die," she said softly. "Unlike them," she added as she gave Bobby, Alex and the Official an angry glance.

Bobby sighed, fighting his own tears. "Damn it, Keep, that's not fair!" he yelled.

Claire gave him a cold glance. "Oh it seems perfectly fair to me. Your partner needs your help and you're failing him," she said as she grasped Darien's form even tighter.

"I'm sorry," he said softly as he lost the battle with his emotions. Tears started to run silently down his cheeks. 

"Claire…" said Alex, who was also trying to keep her emotions in check.

Claire shook her head. "Don't even bother, Alex. He deserves better from you. Hell, from all of you," she said, giving the Official a look of venom.

The Official sighed harshly. "Doctor, there are millions of people that could be affected by the names on that disk. I know you live in a fantasy world where everyone goes home happy at the end of the day, but that's not the way the world works. Sometimes innocent people have to die for the greater good," he said.

"Where does it end, sir? Are you willing to risk all of our lives for that disk? When Darien dies and they start executing us all one by one, will it all have been worth it?" yelled Claire in anger.

"You're a doctor. Do your job and butt out of mine," replied the Official sharply.

Trey, who had been watching and listening intently, began clapping his hands. "That was some powerful television right there," he said as he stood up and began walking around the room. "You all put up a good front," he said as he glanced at Bobby and Alex and then the Official, "but in the end, I don't think you can let him die," he said, motioning to Darien's shivering form.

"Oh we can and we will, son. You have greatly underestimated my abilities and that of my agents," said the Official.

"So let me get this straight. You're willing to risk your most valuable agent for that disk? Is that what you're telling me?" said Trey.

"Yes, that's right. He works for the government. His job is to protect the safety and security of the citizens of this country. If he has die so that others can live, so be it," said the Official.

Trey stepped in front of the Official and stared him down. "You're very good at your job, sir," he said coldly. "But I'm better at mine," he said as he swiftly walked away and grabbed the black case. He pulled out another vial and filled the syringe. "Time for round three," he said as he walked to Darien and Claire.

Claire climbed on top of Darien and tried to shield his body with her own. "No! Bloody hell, I won't let you do this, you son of bitch!" she screamed.

Trey rolled his eyes. "This is touching, really, but I just don't have the time," he said as he motioned to his men. Vore and Hart stepped forward and effortlessly pulled a struggling Claire off of Darien. 

"Damn you!" she screamed as Trey once again injected the contents from the syringe into Darien's neck.

The men dropped Claire roughly on the floor when Trey was done injecting Darien. She quickly crawled back to Darien and took him in her arms. 

Darien relaxed into her arms, feeling somewhat safe and protected. He experimentally wiggled his arm and nearly cried out in relief when he found he could move it. The relief was short-lived however as an excruciating pain tore through his stomach. He screamed in agony and curled up further into her arms. 

"What is it? What hurts?" she asked with concern.

"My stomach," he hoarsed out. Without warning, a wave of intense nausea rolled through his body. He gagged and vomited all over the floor and Claire's legs. "I'm sorry," he murmured in misery a few seconds later when he got his breath back.

Claire scooted them away from the vomit and brought Darien into a tight hug, resting her head on top of his own. "Don't you dare apologize, Darien. This isn't your fault," she whispered into his ear. She removed one of her shoes and used it to wipe the vomit off of her pants before the smell sent her own upchuck reflex into action. When she was done, she set down the shoe and turned her attention back to Darien.

She felt him begin to shake in her arms and she realized that he was crying. She held him as he slowly broke down, sobbing against her chest like a small child. She began rocking him back and forth in her arms, trying to do something to comfort him. "I'm sorry, Darien, I'm so sorry," she whispered soothingly into his ear. 

A huge lump formed in the throat of Alex as she watched the exchange between Darien and Claire. Claire was right; he didn't deserve this. But no matter how much he was hurting, she couldn't bring herself to give up the code and risk the lives of millions.

Eberts and the Official were looking away, trying not to absorb the scene playing out before their eyes. Eberts bit down on his lower lip to keep from sobbing. He quickly concluded that if he knew the code, he would be spilling it right about now. Which was probably the reason he didn't know it, he guessed.

Bobby stared at his partner being held protectively by Claire on the floor, wanting to do something, anything to help him. "Darien," he said, his voice cracking. "Are you okay, partner?" he asked.

Claire's head shot up. "No, he's not okay, Bobby," she said.

At that moment, another intense pain shot through Darien's midsection. He screamed in pain and convulsed violently causing Claire to lose her tight grip on him. He ended up face first on the floor.

"It's okay, it's okay," whispered Claire as she firmly grasped his hand in her own. She began rubbing soothing patterns on Darien's quaking back with her other hand. She looked up at Bobby with her own version of puppy dog eyes. "Give them the code, Bobby. Please give them the code!" she begged.

"No!" yelled Darien in a pain-filled gasp. "Don't do it, Hobbes. Don't do it, buddy. I'm not worth it!"

Bobby started to sob. "Damn you, you're worth it. I would cut off my leg for you, partner. I would take your place in a heartbeat if I could, you know that. I love you man," he cried.

"Then give them the code!" screamed Claire. "Give them the code and this can end!"

Bobby shook his head. " I wish I could Claire, but I can't," was all he said.

Claire looked at Alex. "Alex? Please…think of your son. Think of him being tortured like this. Think of it. Could you let it continue like this?"

Alex finally broke and began crying. "Stop it!" she said harshly.

"Your son is down on some cold floor, bleeding and crying, moaning in pain. If you had the power to stop it, would you do it? Or would you let him lay there and suffer for the good of his country?" she screamed.

"Stop!" sobbed Alex.

"You're all cowards," yelled Claire. "You're supposed to protect people. Why don't you start with protecting one of your own!" 

Bobby and Alex sat silently, tears streaming down their faces.

Claire glared at the Official. "And you. You heartless bastard. You don't even care about him."

The Official shook his head sadly. "It's not personal Claire, you know that."

"Tell that to him," said Claire as she pointed at Darien's moaning form. "A few more injections and he'll be dead. What then, huh?"

The Official was silent.

Claire turned back to Darien, taking deep breaths to calm her raging emotions down.

Trey stood up from his seat and pulled out his gun. "Thank you Ms. Keeply for doing my job for me. I think you almost had Mr. Hobbes and Ms. Monroe convinced for awhile there," he said. He stepped over to Darien and Claire and roughly pushed the doctor out of the way. He picked up Darien and forced him into a standing position. Darien sagged against him, his body wracked with tremors of pain. 

"No," cried out Claire as she tried to pull Darien back to her. She was rewarded with a swift push back to the floor.

Trey placed the gun to the back of Darien's head, right against the area where the gland was located. "I think the way to convince ole Charlie is to hit him right in the purse strings. No gland, means no Agency."

The Official shuddered. "You're bluffing," he said in an icy tone.

"Try me," said Trey as he cocked the gun against Darien's head.

TBC (yeah I'm evil, but then again, you already knew that!)


	5. Part 4

Sacrifices (4/?)

By Carol M.

See prologue for details

Note: More intensity and more torture ahead. Read on…

Darien opened his eyes as he felt the gun press against his head. For a split second, all the pain was gone, replaced with a moment of clarity that he assumed came before death. He gave the Official a look of total fear and helplessness, his eyes wide with tears. He was begging for his life, he realized. When he looked into the cold emotionless eyes of the Official, he knew all hope was lost. The horrible thought struck him right in the heart, making him want to curl up and cry.

The Official steeled himself against Darien's awful gaze knowing that the sad, desperate pair of eyes would haunt him for the rest of his life. He would never be able to look at Darien again without seeing that same heartbreaking expression on his face. 

"Well, what's it going to be?" said Trey in an impatient tone.

"Remove the gun from his head," said the Official firmly.

"And why should I do that?" asked Trey.

"Because I know as well as you do that you have no intention of harming the gland. We're both businessmen here. The gland is a multi-million dollar paycheck. You don't want to see it destroyed anymore than I do," said the Official.

"And what if I did destroy it, huh? Blow the wonder gland to bits? Where would you all be then?" asked Trey in a slightly pissed off tone.

"We would go on and so would this Agency," said the Official. 

"Sir," cried Claire in a disbelieving tone.

" I'm not willing to give up the people on that disk for the life of one person, no matter how much it costs me in the end," said the Official firmly.

Trey groaned in anger and slowly pulled the gun away from Darien's head causing the entire room to take an audible sigh of relief. He started dragging Darien towards the black case that was sitting on top of the chair.

Claire saw him moving towards the case and crawled towards the chair as quickly as she could, desperate to destroy the remaining vials. 

Trey saw the movement and dropped Darien roughly to the ground. He reached Claire just as she got a hold of the black case.

"No, no please!" shouted Claire as she and Trey got into a tug of war over the case. After a couple of seconds, Trey was finally able to pry it out of her fingers. He gave her a harsh slap across the face, sending her back to the floor. He glanced at Vore and Matthews. "Put her back in the chair and put the cuffs back on," he said angrily.

Vore and Matthews stepped over to Claire and picked her off the ground. She struggled against their tight grip as hard as she could, but they were just too strong for her. She was placed back into her chair and the handcuffs were once again secured around her wrists. She looked at Bobby and Alex, giving them both a sad look of defeat. Her gaze turned to Darien, who was panting heavily on the floor. "I'm sorry, Darien," she said softly.

Darien was in too much pain to hear her. He was roughly picked up by Trey and tossed in front of the chair.

"Since everyone here seems to have developed a case of amnesia over the code, I think some desperate measures are in order," said Trey as he reached into the case and picked up the syringe. He picked up a vial, filled the syringe with the contents and then injected the purple stuff into Darien's neck.

Darien could do nothing but moan weakly as he felt the chemicals enter his system. 

Trey didn't stop the injections. He picked up another vial, inserted the chemicals into the syringe, and injected Darien again, this time in the arm.

"Thornton, you're going to kill him," shouted Bobby as he struggled with his cuffs.

Trey glanced up at Bobby and smiled. "That's the idea, my friend." He picked up yet another vial, inserted the contents into the syringe and injected Darien's other arm. "Care to help your partner now?" said Trey, giving Bobby an expectant look.

Bobby closed his tear-filled eyes briefly and then reopened them with a look of pure hatred on his face. "I'm gonna kill you! You hear me? You will not live. I will tear your heart out of your body, and I'm going to enjoy it, you sick son of a bitch!"

Darien cried out then, his lean body arching up in one long torturous whimper as the pain from the three injections hit his system all at once. It was the most intense pain he had ever felt in his entire life. QSM seemed like a paper cut compared to this. Every muscle in his body throbbed as if they were being stabbed repeatedly by knifes. He felt a pressure on his chest and had to struggle just to get air into his mouth. He started taking harsh, choking gasps, trying desperately to get oxygen in his aching lungs.

"Feels like you're breathing fire, doesn't it, Mr. Fawkes. Those three shots affect the muscles and the respiratory system," said Trey as he sat back down in his chair and glanced at Darien.

Darien's body starting to convulse on the floor. He began moaning so loudly that it hurt his own ears.

Claire shut her eyes, unable to watch her friend suffer so much. Her noise and throat became choked with snot as she started to sob uncontrollably.

Alex ignored the sounds of Claire's sobs and stared in horror at Darien as the pain overtook him. All she could see was her son on that floor. Her son dying before her eyes. Finally, she shut her eyes, desperate to get away from the gruesome sight before her.

Eberts observed the rest of his grieving coworkers and then finally took a fearful glance at Darien. After a few seconds of watching the pain and torture, he couldn't take it anymore. He let the lid off of his emotions and began to sob. He glanced over at the Official and was surprised when he saw a few stray tears falling down his cheeks. "Sir?" he whispered.

The Official looked at Eberts and shook his head sadly. He looked back at Trey and cleared his throat. "Kill him. Don't let him suffer like this," he said softly.

Trey shook his head. "No way in hell. If he's gonna go, you're all going to watch it happen," he said coldly as he glanced back at Darien.

The pain in Darien's body suddenly seemed to intensity by about thirty times. He lay on the floor in a pain-filled haze, never feeling so alone in all of his life then he did at that moment. He felt unimportant, uncared for and worst of all, unloved. The small piece of rationality still functioning in his brain told him that this was just the pain talking, but he couldn't shake the awful feeling. The pain suddenly went up another notch and his mind was gone, replaced by nothing but agony. He couldn't take it anymore. He started to sob; gut wrenching sobs that left his chest achy and his throat sore. 

He looked up at Bobby and Alex, a pleading look on his face. "Give them the code, guys! Please, I can't take this anymore, please!" he sobbed.

Alex opened her eyes and looked at the desperate face looking back at her. "Fawkes," she whispered.

Bobby also looked at Darien, his heart aching in sympathy.

"Bobby, please, tell them the code. It hurts so much, man, please!" moaned Darien. "Please help me. I don't want to die," he sobbed.

Bobby couldn't take the tension anymore and let out a blood-curdling scream that caused everyone, even Trey, to flinch. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he began to chant maniacally over and over again.

Trey got off his chair and reached for the black case. "Well perhaps another shot will do the trick," he said as he once again picked up the syringe and a vial of the purple drug.

"No!" shouted Alex.

Trey ignored her and filled the syringe. He walked to Darien and knelt down next to him. He inserted the needle in his neck once again and pressed down on the plunger.

Darien's body arched back as a wave of pain hit the back of his brain. It was QSM all over again. He started to shake all over, moaning and groaning and screaming all in once breath. "Bobby…help me, help me," he whispered weakly. "Alex…someone, please…please…Kevin…help!"

Bobby shook his head. "I can't, I can't, I can't!" he shouted.

Darien screamed. "Mom…please mommy, help me!"

Alex's heart froze in her chest. "James," she whispered.

"Darien," sobbed Claire. "I love you, Darien. We all love you."

"Fight it, Fawkes, fight it," shouted the Official, the battle with his tears lost.

"Ahhhhhhhhhhhh," Darien screamed forever, the harsh sound enough to make Trey step away from him and gaze up at his men with a slight look of regret. 

"Pleaseeeeeeee," Darien screamed.

Alex took a deep breath and looked at Bobby. She quickly determined that Bobby had completely lost it. He was whispering unintelligible sounds over and over again and his eyes had glazed over. She glanced at the Official and saw a look of stony regret on his face. Her attention turned back to the awful sounds coming from the floor.

"God, please help me!" screamed Darien.

Alex made her choice right then and there. "I'll give you the code!" she screamed.

A needle could have dropped at that moment and everyone in the room would have heard it.

Claire gasped and started to sob in simultaneous relief and worry. Bobby seemed to come out of his daze and gave her a grateful look. Eberts nodded his head in approval, a small smile creeping across his face. Even the Official looked slightly relieved. Darien screamed and passed out, his ravaged body succumbing not only in pain, but in relief.

Trey started laughing as he picked up the silver box and walked over to Alex.

"Uncuff me," she said. "I'll punch in the code myself so you don't screw it up."

Trey reached into his pocket and pulled out a key. He moved to her back and quickly unlocked the cuffs. Then he stepped back to her front and looked at her with his eyebrows raised. "Well?" he said.

Alex rubbed her wrists and reached a shaky hand to the keypad on the box. She began punching in the code. 26693368513111980. The silver box popped open, revealing a blue disk.

Trey reached into the box and pulled out the disk, shoving it into his pocket.

Alex took in deep breaths as a rage slowly built inside of her. She suddenly leapt at Trey, wanting to tear his heart out. She began pummeling him with her fists and simultaneously trying to grab for the disk. She pulled at his pants and his shirt, trying to claw the clothes off of his body. She suddenly felt an intense pain on her neck and fell to the ground in an unmoving daze. She looked up and saw Trey's men standing over her, a tazer in Vore's hand.

"Now, now Ms. Monroe. You have to play fair," said Trey as he held the disk over her. He glanced around the room, looking from the Official, to Eberts, to Bobby, to Claire and finally to Darien's unmoving form on the floor. "It was a pleasure doing business with you people," he said as one of his men handed him a small backpack. Trey took out a small explosive device and set it on the ground. He pressed a button and the timer started to tick down. 

Trey motioned to his men to move out of the room. They did as they were told and quickly stepped out of the room. Trey started for the door and then stopped to take one last look around the room. "I'm sorry. I wasn't personal, it was just business." He kissed the disk in his hand and walked out of the room.

The Official watched as Trey walked out of the room and then glanced down at Alex. "Get up, Monroe," he anxiously as he looked at the bomb.

After a couple of seconds, Alex struggled up to her feet and crawled to the device, seeing a red wire and a blue wire. She reached into her pocket and pulled out her car keys, pulling off a Swiss army knife. She pulled out the silver knife and hesitantly placed it between the two wires. "20 seconds," she whispered.

"Cut the red wire," shouted Bobby.

Alex nodded and cut through the wire. The device continued to tick. "Damn it," she said in frustration. She looked up at all of them and then moved the knife to the blue wire. She took a deep breath and cut through it. The device still continued to tick. "10 seconds," she said in fear.

"Oh god," breathed Claire as she eyed the rest of the group in a panic.

Alex glanced towards the window and then looked back at the bomb. She picked up the device and threw it as hard as she could through the window. Then she dived to Darien, trying to shield his prone body from the blast.

A fireball exploded outside the window a second later as the bomb detonated, blowing out all the windows in the office. The glass sprayed the hostages, leaving tiny stinging cuts all over their bodies. Other than the cuts, the group was remarkably unharmed.

Alex shakily got to her feet after giving Darien a soft pat on the chest and began freeing the hostages from their cuffs with the tweezers on her knife. She freed Claire first, who quickly went to Darien's side. She began taking his vitals and trying to access the damage to his body.

Next came Bobby, who stood up and quietly stared down at Darien and Claire, still in too much shock to do anything for his partner.

Eberts and the Official were freed next. Eberts stepped to next to the Official, unsure of what to do. The Official stared down at Darien for a moment and then looked at Bobby and Alex, " Hobbes, Monroe, get the disk. Whatever you have to do, get it," he said firmly.

Bobby and Alex both looked up. "With pleasure, chief," said Bobby. He took one final glimpse of Darien and swallowed painfully. He looked at Monroe and motioned to the door. "Let's get the bastard," he said softly.

Alex nodded shakily and then quickly joined Bobby as he walked out the door.

The Official walked out into the hall and located his telephone. He plugged it back into the wall of his office and quickly dialed. "This is Borden, we've had a breach. We need to close all the airports and get troops posted at the borders."

As the Official continued to give orders, Claire was busy trying to examine Darien. His pulse was weak and he could barely take a breath on his own. Even though he was unconscious, she could tell he was still in an immense amount of pain. He continued to murmur soft groans and whimpers, which had Claire very worried.

"Something's wrong," she said to no one in particular. "It shouldn't be this bad, not until the last injection," she said as she tried to ignore the fact that her tears were dripping down on Darien's face. She glanced up at Eberts with a desperate look in her eyes. "Albert, I need you to help me get Darien to the Keep. We're going to lose him if I don't get him stabilized," she said as she reached under Darien's arms.

Eberts nodded in fright and grabbed Darien's legs. Together, they carefully hauled Darien's ravaged body out the door.

A few seconds later, the Official hung up the phone and sank down in one of the chairs. He stared at the empty silver box lying on the floor and then looked at the pile of dried vomit and sweat where Darien had been laying. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, wondering if this had all been worth it.

TBC (next part by Thursday at the latest)


	6. Part 5

Sacrifices (5/?)

By Carol M.

See prologue for details

Note: Sorry this took a little longer, but I've had the midterms from hell and graduate school applications to contend with. Now that all that crap's done, I'll be posting more frequently. Enjoy the next part!

"Watch out for the glass, Albert," said Claire as she and Eberts entered the Keep through the blown out door with Darien held protectively in their arms. They set him down carefully on the counteragent chair, where he quickly regained consciousness.

"Claire," panted Darien. "It hurts," he whispered.

Claire ran a hand through his hair. "I know it hurts, Darien. I'm going to make it better," she said calmly. 

Eberts stepped aside, glancing at Darien with a look of fear on his face. "What can I do to help?" he asked.

"Stay out of my way," was Claire's terse response as she reached for a syringe and stepped to Darien. 

Darien instantly tried to shrink away from the needle. "No, no more. Please, no more."

Claire gave him a sympathetic look. "I just have to draw a little blood and see how much of the drug is still in your system. I'll try not to hurt you," she said softly.

Eberts stepped to Darien's side and grabbed his hand. "It'll be okay, Darien," he whispered in a comforting tone.

Claire gave Eberts a grateful look and then carefully inserted the needle into Darien's arm. Darien winced and closed his eyes, gripping Eberts' hand tightly in his own. A few minutes later, Claire removed the needle and took out the vial of blood. She smeared a drop of the blood on a glass slide and went to look at it under her microscope like she had done earlier that morning.

Eberts stayed by Darien's side, holding his hand and whispering reassurances in his ear. Darien's eyes remained closed, his face taking on a pasty white pallor that was soaked with sweat. 

"Bloody hell," said Claire after a few minutes of examining the blood.

"What did you find?" asked Eberts.

"The drug is attaching itself to the quicksilver in his system causing the drug to multiply as the quicksilver levels in his blood go up," said Claire.

"What do we do?" asked Eberts.

"I don't know," said Claire dejectedly. She eyed her refrigerator and a light bulb seemed to turn on in her brain. "What if I used the counteragent?"

"The counteragent?" said Eberts.

"It's not as effective as it used to be, but it was still filling the snake half-way before the suicide gene. I could flush some of the quicksilver out of his body and maybe stop the drug from multiplying," said Claire.

Eberts was about to respond when he heard a horrific scream of pain come out of Darien's mouth. The scream was followed by harsh gagging noises, and then suddenly, there was nothing. Eberts looked down and noticed that Darien was very still. Too still. "Doctor, I think Darien stopped breathing!" he said in a panic.

Claire dashed over to Darien and confirmed Eberts' fear. "Eberts, I need you to do chest compressions for me."

Eberts nodded and moved down the chair, putting his hands firmly over Darien's chest.

"Start the compressions," ordered Claire. "One, two, three, four, five." She took all of her air and blew it into Darien's mouth. "Come on, Darien, breathe, fight it," she said as she watched Eberts' hands press firmly down on Darien's chest once again.

"Breathe, Darien," said Eberts as he did a compression and then watched Claire give air to Darien. "One, two, three, four, five," he whispered as he started the compressions again.

"Darien, please, fight this," cried Claire. She once again breathed into his mouth, trying to literally breathe the life back into him.

They suddenly heard a wet rattling sound, followed by several coughs. Claire looked down at Darien's chest and saw it begin to rise and then shakily fall. She leaned over and gave him a small hug in relief. "Oh thank god," she said. "Eberts, there's an oxygen tank in the corner. Go get it," she said as caressed the side of Darien's face.

Eberts nodded and returned seconds later with the oxygen tank. Claire took it from him and activated the tank. She placed the attached mask over Darien's face and secured it behind his head. "Just breathe, Darien. All you have to do is breathe," she whispered in his ear.

Although Darien was unconscious and could not verbally respond, the steadier sounds of his breathing assured Claire that he indeed had heard her. She looked up at Eberts and nodded towards Darien. "Watch him," she said.

Eberts nodded and once again grabbed Darien's hand.

Claire stepped over to the refrigerator and began sorting through the various vials of chemicals she kept on the top shelf. She pulled out several vials and took them over to her desk. "I'm going to give him a series of small injections. Flushing the chemicals out of his system all out once would probably be too much of a shock to his system. It might kill him," she said as she began to concoct the formula that she knew by heart.

"How long before it's ready?" asked Eberts.

"A hour, maybe two for the first injection. Hopefully we can keep him stable until then," said Claire.

Eberts looked down at Darien and patted him on the shoulder. "Hang in there, Darien, hang in there."

**

Bobby could not believe what he was hearing. "So let me get this straight, ma'am. You saw eight armed men walk out of the building and you didn't think to call the police or do anything?" shouted Bobby. He stared down in anger at the petite blonde woman who was sitting on the sidewalk outside the Harding Building.

The woman shook her head. "No," she answered meekly.

Bobby was fuming. He pointed up at the building. "My partner...my best friend is in there fighting for his life because of those men and you didn't do anything? Is that what you're trying to tell me?" he asked incredulously.

Small tears started to pour down the woman's face. "No," she sobbed.

"Hobbes," said Alex sharply as she stepped up from behind him. She glanced down at the woman with a gentle expression on her face. "Did you happen to see where the men went?" she asked. 

The woman pointed across the street. "They got in some cars," she sniffled.

Bobby stepped closer to her. "What kind of cars?"

"A red one and a white one," she said, her sobs starting to die down.

Alex knelt down next to the woman. "Do you happen to remember the make or the model? A license plate number maybe?"

The woman shook her head.

Bobby rolled his eyes. "Look lady, if you don't start cooperating, and I mean real quick, I'll have every federal…

"Bobby," Alex interrupted, glancing up at Bobby with a warning expression.

Bobby stopped for a moment and tried to regain some composure. He took a deep breath and looked back at the woman. "What about the explosion? You had to see that, right?"

"No," said the woman.

Bobby shook his head. "Yeah, there's glass all over the freakin street, but you didn't see anything. Neither did the twenty other people who were standing out here. Lucky none of you got your asses blown to bits," said Bobby, throwing his hands up in frustration.

Alex stood back up and pushed Bobby towards the doorway of the Agency. "Hobbes, you need to calm down, okay. These people are frightened. Hell, Thornton probably threatened them. The point is, you're not going to get anywhere with these witnesses if you're yelling at them and scaring them even more."

Bobby took a deep breath and nodded, blinking back tears. "Okay, Monroe. What about you? What does your brilliant plan entail? How are we going to get this guy?"

"We contact every lowlife we can find and get someone to talk. Somebody's got to know something. The street value of that disk is too high to keep a secret," said Alex. She realized that Bobby seemed to be off in his own world. "Hey, are you listening?"

Bobby's eyes blinked and he gazed up at her. "Hmmmm? Oh…yeah."

Alex put her hand on Bobby's shoulder. "Hobbes, he's gonna be all right. Fawkes is a tough son of a bitch."

"Yeah," said Bobby in an unconvinced tone.

"Look, let's just get out of here and go get the bad guys." Alex glanced up at the building. "There's nothing we can do for Darien right now anyway," she added softly, trying to ignore the torturous images that were flashing through her mind.

"You're wrong, Monroe. There's plenty of things I could do. Hell, plenty of things I could've done…should've done," whispered Bobby in a harsh tone.

"Hobbes, you've gotta get a grip. Let's end this right now. We'll get Thornton and we'll get the disk back. I'm sure if anything happens with Darien, Claire will let us know," she said as she nodded towards the Agency parking lot. "Now come on, I'm driving."

Bobby rubbed his forehead with his hand and started following Alex down the sidewalk. He glanced up at the Harding Building as he walked and sighed heavily. "I'm sorry, partner," he murmured to himself.

**

Claire tried to regard her shivering patient on the counteragent chair with as much detachment as possible, but found the task to be easier said than done. Darien had regained consciousness an hour earlier and had been whimpering loudly in pain for every second of it. "Okay, Darien, I need you to relax," she said as she held up a syringe filled with counteragent.

"What's that?" asked Darien in a pain-filled voice, eyeing the syringe.

"It's counteragent. I think it'll help with the pain and help reduce the amount of EL6 in your system," said Claire as she glanced up at Eberts. "Albert, help me."

Eberts nodded and once again stepped beside the counteragent chair. He firmly grasped Darien's hand and noticed with slight concern that Darien's grip was much weaker than it had been even two hours earlier.

Claire took a deep breath and looked at Darien. "Here it goes," said Claire as she slowly guided the syringe towards his arm.

Darien weakly attempted to thrash around as the needle got closer. "Please don't hurt me," he whispered in a tiny voice.

The request was so raw and so honest that it brought tears to Claire's eyes. She set down the needle and gently took Darien's face into her hands, gazing deep into his fear-filled puppy dog eyes. "I'm not going to hurt you, Darien, I promise. You said before that you trusted me. Trust me now," she said softly.

A single tear fell from Darien's left eye, which Claire promptly wiped away with her finger. He swallowed a painful lump in his throat and then nodded slowly. "Okay," he whispered. "Do what you have to do," he said in the bravest voice he could muster.

Claire nodded slightly and picked up the needle again. She wiped the crook of his arm with alcohol and then inserted the needle into his vein as gently as possible. "I'm injecting you now, Darien." She pressed down on the plunger and held her breath.

For a few moments, nothing happened. Then, Darien's body suddenly arched up and he began to convulse violently. Eberts and Claire instantly reached for his shoulders so he wouldn't hurt himself. After a few more seconds, Darien let out a loud moan and then collapsed unconscious back against the chair. Eberts shuddered in concern. "Is he alright?"

Claire pressed her hand against Darien's neck and found his pulse to be weak, but steady. "Yeah, she whispered as she let out the breath she had been holding. She reached for a syringe and once again took Darien's blood. She put the new sample on a slide and walked over to the microscope. Eberts watched her intently and a moment later sighed in relief when Claire looked up and gave him a huge smile.

"It's working. The counteragent is slowly reducing the amounts of EL6 in his blood. In a few days, the drug should be completely out of his system," she said as she glanced over at Darien and smiled. "Barring any complications, I think he's going to be okay."

Eberts' face broke out into a huge smile. "Wonderful news, doctor."

"Yes indeed," they heard a voice say from behind them.

They both turned around and saw the Official standing in the damaged doorway. "How long before he's ready for duty?" asked the Official in a gruff tone.

Claire put her hands on her hips and sighed. "Is that all you care about?"

The Official clenched his jaw. "I repeat, how long before he's ready for duty?"

Claire rolled her eyes in anger. "A month, maybe two. His body will have to recover from the effects of the drug, not too mention the psychological ramifications. He's going to be bed ridden for at least the next couple of weeks."

"Fine," said the Official. He glanced over at Eberts. "Eberts, we have work to do."

"But sir, don't you think I should stay and help the doctor?" asked Eberts in a slightly confused tone.

"You're needed elsewhere right now. Besides, it looks like she has things under control," he said as he looked at Darien's unconscious form.

Claire stared in disbelief at the Official. "You don't even care, do you? Darien almost died today, sir," she said angrily.

"Doctor, right now I'm more concerned about getting back a certain disk that could risk millions of lives. Darien Fawkes is the least of my problems," said the Official. "Eberts, let's go."

Eberts nodded hesitantly and glanced at Claire. "If you need any help or need me to stay here tonight, let me know," he said softly.

Claire nodded in appreciation. "Thank you, Albert. It's nice to know that at least one other person cares about Darien's well being."

Eberts gave her a small smile and then followed the Official out the door.

Claire stared after them for a few seconds and then her gaze drifted to Darien. She took the chair from her desk and rolled it next to the counteragent chair. She then sat down and looked at his face, noting how young and vulnerable he looked. She leaned down and kissed him on the forehead. "I'll get you through this, Darien. I promise." She then grasped his hand into her own and began to wait patiently for him to wake up. 

TBC maybe by tomorrow, but no guarantees :)


	7. Part 6

Sacrifices (6/?)

By Carol M.

See prologue for details

Note: Keep on truckin', kiddies. I-man might be gone for now, but Fawkesy and Hobbesy live on! Enjoy the next part! More on Sunday.

"Hobbes, take it easy!" yelled Alex in anger as she watched Bobby raise a hand to punch one of his Hobbesnet informants. The kid couldn't have been any older than 20 and his eyes projected a complete and total fear of a pissed off Bobby Hobbes.

"You know something, I know you do. Just remember who got your drug violation reduced, my friend, remember that, punk?" yelled Bobby. He grabbed the kid by the collar and bashed him against the brick wall of the kid's crappy apartment. "Your ass would be in jail right now if it weren't for my divine intervention. I'm sure the ole' boys would love a sweet young thing like you!"

The kid started to sob uncontrollably. "Look man, I already told you, I don't know nothing! I'm just working at the plant, trying to get my life back on track, that's all, dude!" he cried.

Alex stepped behind Bobby and put her hand on his shoulder. Bobby swung around wildly and brought up his fist to hit the offender touching his shoulder. "Whoa, Hobbes…Bobby, it's me, it's just me," said Alex in surprise.

Bobby's gaze softened and his hand lowered back down to his side. "Sorry," he whispered. He had completely forgotten she was there. He shook his head and glanced back at the kid. "Give me a name, or your history, pal," said Bobby in a menacing tone.

The kid wiped at his face and tried to catch his breath. "Chazz Buckley," he responded.

"Is he a buddy of yours?" asked Bobby as he put an arm around the kid.

The kid nodded. "Yeah, man. That dude knows everything going down in this city."

Alex cleared her throat and looked at the kid. "Where can we find this guy?"

"Corner store on 7th and Main. He hangs out back," said the kid.

Bobby let the kid go and put his finger up menacingly. "If I find out your lying, I'll come back here and have you busted back into jail so fast you won't know the inmates from the prison guards."

Alex grabbed at Bobby's arm and pulled him towards the door. "Hobbes, let's go."

Bobby looked back at the kid and pointed his finger once again. "I'll be watching you, my friend. Remember that."

The kid nodded and then sank down to the floor in relief.

Alex dragged Bobby out of the apartment and led him down the stairwell that would take them back to the street. Bobby dragged his feet and looked at the ground as they walked.

When they got to the car, Alex quickly got in the driver's seat of the Corvette and Bobby sank down in the passenger's seat. Alex was about to start the car when Bobby abruptly stopped her. "I'm sorry, Monroe, I was out of line back there," said Bobby sincerely.

A small smiled crept on Alex's face. "What good's a partner if you can't slug them every once in awhile," she said teasingly.

A cloud formed on Bobby's face and Alex instantly knew she had said the wrong thing. "I know I'm not your partner. But for now, just pretend like I am."

Bobby snorted softly and then smiled. "You sure you want to be my partner, partner?" he asked.

"Wouldn't have it any other way," said Alex as she put the key in the ignition and started the car. "Now come on, let's go find Mr. Buckley."

Bobby nodded and relaxed into the seat. 

Alex pulled out onto the street and took a left at the first stop light, heading towards Main Street. 

"We've gotta get this guy, Monroe," said Bobby suddenly.

Alex nodded. "Yeah, I'm sure the government would appreciate getting their top secret disk back."

"Not just for the disk, Alex. For Fawkes," said Bobby.

Alex glanced over at him with a confident expression on her face. "As Bobby Hobbes would say, no worries, my friend."

Bobby's face broke out into a full-blown smile. "You've got some nerve there, Monroe. Mocking me like that when my emotions are on the fritz."

"Somebody's got to keep you in line," said Alex as she drove on.

Bobby was about to respond with a witty comment when his cell phone started to ring. He reached into his jacket and quickly answered. "Hobbes…Keep…oh god, he's dead isn't he?" said Bobby with worry.

Alex eyed him in fear. "Is Darien okay?"

"What?" said Bobby into the phone. He let out a huge sigh of relief. "Oh thank god…oh thank god," he said as he covered the phone with his hand and glanced at Monroe. "Fawkes is gonna make it."

Alex smiled. "I told you," she said happily.

Bobby uncovered the phone. "Take care of him, Claire. Monroe and I are going after Thornton. Yeah… you too…bye." Bobby hung up the phone and let out a long sigh of relief. "He's alive. He's bad, but he's alive. Keep said he should be okay in a month or two."

"Feel better now?" asked Alex as she pulled onto Main Street.

Bobby thought for a moment and shook his head. "No, not even close," he said finally.

Alex nodded. "Me neither."

**

Claire put the phone back in the cradle and glanced at Darien. He looked like he was finally coming around. She could see his eyes moving under his lids and his body twitched every couple of seconds. She dashed to his side and sat back down in her chair. "Darien, open your eyes for me," she said encouragingly. 

Her response was a muffled groan.

"Come on, sweetheart, open your eyes," said Claire.

Darien's eyelids started to flutter rapidly and after a few seconds, a pair of tired looking brown eyes were glancing up at her. Darien tried to sit up but found that he could barely move. "Easy, easy," said Claire as she pressed a firm hand against her chest. "You're going to be okay, Darien. I'm using the counteragent as a way to flush the drug out of your system. You're probably going to be in pain for a few more days until the drug is completely gone from your blood."

As if on cue, Darien started to whimper. He frantically pointed at his legs. "Ouchie, ouchie," he moaned as the pain in his legs flared up to an almost unbearable level.

Claire clutched Darien's shoulders and held him while he started to shake with the pain. "It's okay, it's okay. I think I'm going to give you another shot of the counteragent."

Darien's head started to shake back and forth violently. "No more shots," he hoarsed out.

Claire sighed. "Darien, I have to, it's the only thing making you better. It might even help with the pain," she said as she reached for a syringe that she had already filled with counteragent.

"How many?" whispered Darien.

"A miniscule dose every two hours," said Claire sympathetically.

Darien glanced at his arms and winced as another pain shot through his leg. "Well, I guess I'm going to be getting my track marks back," he gasped.

"Easy, Darien," she said as she began rubbing his leg for lack of anything better to do. "A shot every two hours for two days. Then it'll be over. The drug should be out of your system by the end of the week and you'll be on the road to recovery."

"Great," he whispered sarcastically. He looked up at her and then looked at the needle. "Stick me."

Claire nodded her head and picked up the needle. She wiped the crook of his elbow with an alcohol wipe and then glanced up at Darien's fear-filled eyes. "Relax, I'm not going to hurt you."

Darien nodded hesitantly, but couldn't stop his body from shaking in fear.

Claire ignored the small tremors and carefully inserted the needle into his vein, pressing down on the plunger and releasing the counteragent into his system. His reaction was not as violent as before. He arched up and then fell back against the chair, passing out. About a minute later, he woke up again.

Claire pointed to his legs. "Any better?" she asked.

Darien thought for a minute and then nodded. "Yeah," he whispered.

"Good," said Claire with a smile. "How about we move you into a bed?" she suggested.

Darien shook his head. "I want to go home. I don't want to be here," he answered.

"Two days, Darien. Let me give you the injections and then I promise, you can go home on one condition," said Claire.

Darien weakly raised his eyebrow. "What's that?"

"I'm staying with you," she said firmly.

"You mean like, living with me?" he asked curiously.

"Yes," said Claire. "Just for the next couple of weeks. Believe me, Darien, you're going to need somebody with you. Once this drug leaves your system, your body is going to be completely worn out."

A small smile crept on Darien's face. "You know Keep, if you really wanted to stay with me, all you had to do was ask. You didn't have to go to all this trouble."

Claire laughed. "I'm glad to see your sense of humor has returned."

"Yeah well, give me a few days. I'm sure it'll be leaving pretty quick," said Darien as he struggled to look around the lab. "How's Hobbes? Was he down here when I was out before?"

Claire shook her head. "Bobby and Alex are trying to track down Thornton and get the disk back on the Official's orders."

A slight look of hurt washed over Darien's face. "Oh," he said softly.

"Hey," said Claire as she reached under Darien's chin. "I'm sure Bobby will come and see you once he and Alex get Thornton."

Darien nodded. "Yeah."

Claire gave him a look of concern. "Darien, maybe we should talk about what happened."

Darien shook his head. "No, it's cool, I'm fine," he said curtly. "You were saying something about a…owwww," Darien yelped as a brief flash of pain tore through his stomach, "bed," he gasped out.

"Yeah. We'll move you into Lab Two," said Claire sympathetically as she reached for her phone. She quickly took it off the cradle and dialed. "Eberts, this is Claire. Can you come down for a moment and help me get Darien into Lab Two?"

Darien struggled to sit up. "I can walk," he said as he tried to plant his feet on the ground. Unfortunately, the world seemed to start spinning at that moment and Darien had to close his eyes against the vertigo. "Aw crap," he whispered as he felt his stomach rumble.

"Eberts, now, please," yelled Claire into the phone. She quickly hung up and ran to Darien. "What, what's wrong?" she asked with worry.

"I'm gonna be…" Darien threw up before he could finish the sentence, nailing both of Claire's shoes. "Oh god," he murmured a few seconds later. He glanced down at her shoes and then shot her the puppy dog eyes. "I'm so sorry," he whispered apologetically.

Claire kicked her shoes off with her feet and then helped Darien lay back against the counteragent chair. "It's okay, Darien, you're sick, you can't help it," she said in understanding.

She went to the sink for a moment and returned to his side with a wet paper towel. She began wiping off the sweat that was glistening on his face. 

"Thanks," he murmured. "When all of this is over, I'm going to buy you a whole new wardrobe."

Claire smiled. "You're lucky I have fairly strong stomach, otherwise I would be puking all over you."

"Believe me, I wouldn't blame you," said Darien.

"Is everything all right?" asked Eberts as he dashed into the Keep. He eyed the vomit on the floor for a moment and then glanced up at Darien.

"Yes, Eberts, Darien just got sick. Can you help me move him into the other lab?" said Claire.

"Of course, doctor," said Eberts.

"There's a stretcher in storage. Go get it and then we can transfer him," said Claire.

Eberts nodded and walked back out the door.

Claire turned back to Darien. "We'll get you settled and then you can sleep for awhile," she said as she ran a hand through his hair.

"Sounds like a plan," said Darien.

"Maybe later you can try and eat something," said Claire.

Darien glanced at the vomit on the floor and shook his head. "Don't think that's going to be happening anytime soon there, Claire."

Claire smiled and looked up as Eberts returned with the stretcher. He rolled the stretcher so it was adjacent to the counteragent chair. "Okay, I'll get his legs, you get his arms," said Claire to Eberts.

They both got into position and carefully lifted Darien's lanky body onto the stretcher. Then Claire and Eberts both pushed the stretcher through the Keep, out in the hallway and into Lab Two. By the time they reached the bed, Darien was on the verge of falling asleep.

"Okay, on 3…1…2…3," said Claire. She and Eberts once again lifted Darien and transferred him into the bed. Claire pulled the sheets out from under him and wrapped them over his body. "I'll wake you in two hours, Darien."

"'Kay," murmured Darien. Within seconds, he was fast asleep.

**

"Well if it isn't Chazz in the flesh," said Bobby as he eyed a lanky red-haired man in his late twenties. He was smoking a cigarette in the back alley of the Central convenience store.

Chazz eyed Bobby suspiciously and then his gaze drifted to Alex, who was standing behind Bobby. "You cops or something?" he asked.

"Or something," said Alex sarcastically.

"What do you want?" asked Chazz.

Bobby took out his gun and cocked it. "A little info."

Chazz swallowed hard and eyed the gun. "What kind of info?"

Alex raised an eyebrow. "A little info about a disk and the men who stole it."

"I don't know what you're talking about," said Chazz.

"Well my .35 caliber colt says differently," said Bobby as he tore the cigarette out of Chazz's hand and pushed him against the brick wall of the alley. He put the gun to Chazz's head. "Remember now?"

Chazz nodded. "Oh yeah, I think I heard something about that."

"Like what?" asked Alex as she stepped beside him.

"My friend Vore, he's been bragging for weeks about some fancy smancy heist involving some top secret government disk. Said he was going to be a millionaire," said Chazz.

Bobby pressed the gun harder against Chazz's head. "And?" he said roughly.

"And…and…he told me about some deal. Supposed to go down tonight at some abandoned airport hanger," said Chazz.

"Which one?" asked Bobby.

Chazz closed his eyes.

"Which one?" yelled Bobby in anger.

"Seagull Air, it's just outside of town," screamed Chazz in fear.

Bobby took the gun away from his head and patted him on the shoulder. "See. That wasn't so tough, my friend."

Chazz let out a sigh of relief and sagged against the wall.

Bobby turned his head to look at Alex. "Seagull Air, my dear?"

Alex smiled and waved her hand towards her car. "After you, Mr. Hobbes."

The pair quickly got back to the car and sped off, leaving a long, smoking skid mark in their tracks.

TBC 


	8. Part 7

Sacrifices (7/?)

By Carol M.

See prologue for details

Note: Got this part out a little quicker than expected and decided to post it today. WARNING, this part is VERY intense. That's all I'll say. Enjoy it, folks!

Alex pulled her Corvette into the back of the airfield, taking care not use her lights in the pitch black of night. She and Bobby exited the car as quietly as possible, not even letting the car doors shut. About 200 feet in front of them was the hanger. Two cars were already parked in front of it and more cars were sure to be on their way.

"I'm calling for backup," said Alex as she reached into her jacket for her cell phone.

Bobby stopped the movement with his hand. "No way, Monroe. There's no time. The Agency guys would storm in there and everyone would scatter. We're taking down Thornton ourselves."

"Hobbes," said Alex, sounding uneasy.

Bobby pointed at the hanger. "I don't care who's in there. Whoever Thornton is selling the disk to can get away, as far as I'm concerned. I just want Thornton's butt in a sling and that sweet disk back in my fingers."

"Okay, maybe you're right. Maybe backup would be a bad idea," said Alex as she looked at Bobby and smiled. "I guess it's just you and me, little tiger."

Bobby nearly blushed. "Come on darling, let's go bust ourselves a criminal," he said as he pulled out his gun and started creeping towards the hanger 

Alex followed suit and pulled out her own gun, tailing Bobby towards the hanger. They were about 50 yards away when another car pulled up to the hanger. Bobby and Alex duck behind a small shed filled with old airplane parts. They watched an older man with silver hair get out of the car, followed by two younger dark-haired men both armed with machine guns. The trio quickly made their way into the hanger.

Alex looked at Bobby in shock. "Do you know who that is?" she asked incredulously.

"Naw, who is it?" asked Bobby as they left the cover of the shed and headed towards the hanger.

"It's Armin Roberts. He's ex-CIA. About six years ago, he got booted after a mission went bad and all of his men were killed. Looks like someone wants a little revenge," said Alex.

"I'll tell you what, Monroe. We bust Thornton and get the disk, you can have at this Robert's fellow all you want," said Bobby.

Alex nodded as she and Bobby finally made it to the outside of the hanger. They found a side door and quietly entered the building. The door opened into a small hallway that allowed them to see into the large hanger without being detected themselves. They recognized four of the men standing around the room as some of the men who had helped hold them hostage earlier that day. Trey stood in the middle of the room with Roberts, Robert's men flanking the both of them.

"As you can see Mr. Roberts, I mean business. You said this thing would be impossible to get and I got it. I think the 20 million you're paying me and my men is a very reasonable price," said Trey.

Armin nodded. "Yes, I think that's sounds very reasonable," he said as he turned around and nodded to one of his men. The man quickly started towards the door.

"Vore," yelled Trey. "Follow him and make sure he doesn't do anything stupid."

Vore nodded and followed the man out of the hanger.

Bobby looked at Alex and nodded. "This is it, Monroe," he said as he clasped her hand for a second. 

"Let's do it," she said as she returned the clasp.

They both stepped out of the hallway and aimed their guns at Trey's back. "Game's over, pal. You lose," shouted Bobby.

Trey jerked for a second and then relaxed. "So you're alive. How's your friend? Did I manage to kill him?" said Trey.

"Tell your men to put their guns down and get the hell out of here," said Alex.

Trey slowly turned around.

"Show us your hands!" yelled Bobby.

Trey raised his hands and glanced at Armin. "I'm sorry Mr. Roberts, but it looks like the deal is off."

Armin started to back away towards the door.

"Just get out of here. You haven't down anything wrong yet," yelled Alex.

Armin nodded and motioned to his other man to leave. They both quickly exited the hanger.

Bobby trained his gun on Trey while Alex covered his men. "Drop your guns fellas," said Alex.

The men hesitated and looked at Trey for instruction. "Do as she says!" he yelled.

The men instantly dropped their guns to the ground.

Bobby stepped towards Trey. "Give me the disk, you son of a bitch."

Trey smiled. "Tell me, was it worth it? Was it worth hearing and seeing your partner in such pain and agony? What kind of man lets his partner go through that?"

Bobby reached into Trey's jacket and pulled out his gun, dropping it to the floor. "Funny thing is, my partner is going to be just fine. Unlike you," said Bobby as he put his gun against Trey's head.

"That's right. Be a good little agent and take down the bad guys. But the thing is, I don't recall anything about revenge killing in the agent training guide," said Trey, his eyes drifting nervously towards the gun.

"Oh you haven't huh? It's a new chapter I'm writing. It's gonna be a real page turner," said Bobby as he took a deep breath and prepared to fire. "This one's for my partner. Go to hell you sadistic bastard."

Bobby had been so busy with Trey that he hadn't noticed Vore sneaking back into the hanger. When he saw Bobby holding a gun to his boss's head, he pulled out his gun, ready to fire.

Out of the corner of her eye, Alex saw the movement and swiftly turned around. "Hobbes!" yelled Alex as she fired her gun at Vore. She caught him right between the eyes, killing him instantly.

The distraction allowed Trey's men to pick up their guns.

"Monroe!" yelled Bobby as he realized what was about to happen and aimed his gun at the men. But he was too late. He took out two of them, but not before they had fired their guns right at Alex. Several shots caught her in her back and her chest. She fell to the ground in a crumpled heap with blood leaking out her body.

Bobby fired his gun one last time and took out the last of Trey's men. Then he smashed his gun against Trey's head, knocking him out cold. He let his body fall to the floor and then ran over to Alex. "Monroe," he said softly as he picked her body off the ground and cradled her in his arms. There was blood everywhere and Bobby could tell right away that she wasn't walking away from this one. Her eyes fluttered open and a small smile appeared on her face. "Aw crap," she choked out.

Bobby reached for his cell phone. "I'm going to get you some help, Alex. Just hold on for me, honey."

Alex reached her hand up and stopped him. "Don't bother," she whispered. She looked deep into his eyes, which were slowly filling up with tears. "I'm sorry, Bobby."

Bobby shook his head. "Come on, Monroe, you're a tough broad. Fight damn you, fight. Come on now, I need you. You're my partner," said Bobby as the tears started to fall. He pulled her deeper into his arms and took her into an embrace.

"Hobbes…Bobby…tell Darien that he's something special. Tell him he's worth so much more then he ever gives himself credit for," said Alex in a hoarse tone.

"Alex, don't do this," sobbed Bobby.

"Tell Claire I'm sorry for always being such a bitch. Truth is, I was always jealous of her relationship with you and Fawkes. And tell the Official that I loved working for him, no matter how much I never wanted to admit it." Alex swallowed and took a raspy breath, laughing slightly. "Tell Eberts that I had a secret crush on him."

Bobby smiled through the tears. "Eberts…As in Albert Eberts?"

Alex nodded. "Yeah," she said as tears started to glisten in her eyes. "I'm going to miss you most of all, Scarecrow. Tell Bobby Hobbes that he's a good agent. One of the best. Tell him that Alex Monroe loved working with him and that she admired his partnership with his big-haired Gumby."

Bobby started wiping the tears and blood from Alex's face. "Tell Alex Monroe that she's a beautiful intelligent chick who could have kicked Bobby's Hobbes ass in a heartbeat. And tell her it was an honor to work with her."

Alex smiled and her eyes drifted shut. Bobby started to shake her. "Come on, Alex, don't leave yet. Come on."

Alex's mouth opened and began to move. Bobby had to lean down to hear her words. "If you ever meet my son again, tell him that his mommy loved him very much." Her mouth closed then, and she sagged lifeless in Bobby's arms.

Bobby started to cry. He held her tight, wanting to give her her life back, but he knew it wasn't possible. He continued to rock her back and forth in his arms for several minutes, his tears mingling with her blood. He had completely forgotten about Trey until he heard a gun cock behind his head. "You're turn," he heard Trey whisper.

Bobby reached for his gun and turned around in one swift movement quicker then he ever thought possible. It took Trey by so much surprise that he didn't even realize he had been hit until he felt the blood dripping down his arm. But Bobby didn't stop. He kept on firing. Shot after shot hit Trey's body, spraying blood all over the floors and all over Bobby. He kept firing until he ran out of bullets. Trey's body fell to the ground in mushy heap. Bobby stepped to him and slapped him across the face, even though Trey Thornton was just a memory now. He reached into the man's pocket and pulled out the blue disk, which had managed to survive all the bullets. It was covered in a sticky film of blood.

Bobby stood up and fell to the ground in shock and grief as he glanced back at Alex's dead body. He crawled over to her and took her once again in his arms. Then he pulled out his cell phone and dialed the number for the Agency.

**

The Official looked up in shock as Bobby strutted into the his office three hours later. Bobby took something out of his pocket and threw it on the Official's desk. "That's what you wanted isn't it?" yelled Bobby angrily.

The Official stared at the blood-soaked disk and looked back up at Bobby. "I'm sorry about Monroe, Bobby. She was a good agent and she didn't deserve to die," said the Official.

Bobby shook his head. "Not good enough it turns out. Monroe broke, I didn't. Shouldn't there be some kind of pay increase for that?" yelled Bobby in a sick, angry tone.

"Hobbes," said the Official softly.

"I didn't break, sir. I did my country a great service today. And I nearly got the person who means the most to me in this world killed. Not to mention that fact that I had to watch a fellow agent and friend slip away in my arms," said Bobby with tears in his eyes. "Was it worth it sir? Was it worth Fawkes and Monroe's life?"

"You did your job, Bobby. No one ever said this was easy, son. I'm proud of you," said the Official.

Bobby looked down at the ground. "But I'm not proud of myself. I should've saved Fawkes. I should have been the one to break, not Monroe. She broke and then I let her get herself killed and…and…" Bobby couldn't finish the sentence. He fell to the floor, sobbing.

The Official got out of his chair and knelt down next to Bobby. He reached out his arms and pulled him into an uneasy embrace. "This isn't your fault. None of this is your fault. You're a hero, Bobby. You're the best agent I've got."

Bobby shook his head. "I let him down. I let her down."

"You didn't let me down," said the Official softly.

At that moment, Eberts stepped through the door. "Robert?" he said softly as he eyed Bobby and the Official.

Bobby jerked out of the Official's arms and stood up. He quickly wiped at his eyes. "What do you want, Eberts?" he said angrily.

"Darien's asking for you. Claire just told him about Alex. He's pretty upset, he wants to see you," said Eberts.

Bobby stared at Eberts for a long time and then shook his head. "I'm sorry. I can't see him."

Eberts raised his eyebrow. "Why not?"

"Because I can't look at him. I can't see that hurt look in his eye. I can't watch him go through all the pain and suffering again," said Bobby.

The Official stood up and cleared his throat. "Hobbes, Fawkes needs you."

Bobby turned around and looked at the Official. "No, he doesn't need me. Why would he need the person who nearly got him killed?"

"Robert," said Eberts.

"Sir, I'm taking a little sabbatical, starting right now," said Bobby in a zombie-like voice as he walked towards the door.

"Hobbes, you're not well, you need some help," said the Official.

Bobby turned around with a dead look in his eye. "So does Fawkes," he said as he walked out the door.

Eberts watched Bobby walk down the hall and then he looked back at the Official. "Sir?" he asked.

"Go stay with Darien. Give Claire a break for awhile," said the Official.

Eberts nodded. "Yes, sir," he said as he walked out the door.

The Official sat back down in his chair and stared at the bloody disk sitting on his desk. He thought of Darien, thrashing and moaning in agony on the ground. Then he thought of Alex lying in a pool of her own blood, slowly dying. It was too much too take. Claire was right, it hadn't been worth it. He picked the disk up and dropped it to the ground. Then he brought down his foot and smashed the bloody disk into a dozen pieces.

TBC 


	9. Part 8

Sacrifices (8/?)

By Carol M.

See prologue for details

Note: The saga continues. A little h/c and of course, more angst. Enjoy it! And thanks for all the kind words, guys, it means a lot to me :)

All that was visible of Darien's body under the set of light gray sheets was a thick clump of brown hair that stuck up on the pillow. The rest of him was completely buried under the covers, forming a long and lean lump in his king sized bed. Claire ran her hand over the piece of lump she assumed was Darien's shoulder and smiled sadly.

It had been nearly a week since everything had gone to hell. The drug had been completely purged from Darien's system three days earlier and he had been completely wiped out ever since. As promised, Claire moved Darien to his apartment to let him recover. She had spent nearly every second with him, trying to make him better and get him through some of his grief over Alex.

The funeral had been two days ago and neither Claire nor Darien had been able to attend. Darien had felt awful that he was not strong enough to go to the service. To make up for his absence, he shelled out money for the most expensive tombstone Eberts and the Official could find. He also convinced them to bury Alex next to Kevin since she didn't have any family of her own and since he considered her to be a part of his.

Eberts had filled Claire in on the funeral. It had been very big and extravagant, with government officials from all different branches attending. Even the president had put in an appearance. The Official, Bobby and Eberts had all given a eulogy. For her part, Claire had made sure the funeral had the biggest, most beautiful bouquet of flowers she could lay her hands on. During the time of the actual funeral, she and Darien had reminisced about Alex and shed a few tears. It had helped the both of them immensely, though she could tell Darien was still feeling loss and even guilt over her death.

Bobby was still a no-show in Darien's life. As the days passed, Darien seemed to grow more and more depressed. Eberts had told her about Bobby's reaction to everything that had had happened, and while she couldn't blame him, she wished to hell he would put his guilt aside and come see his best friend. She had instructed Eberts to keep an eye on him and let her know if Bobby did anything drastic. She was planning on putting in a visit to his apartment later that day to kick some sense into his bald head. Or at least offer a shoulder to cry on. At this point, all she wanted to do was to get her two best friends out of the black holes they each found themselves in and bring them back together.

She sighed at her depressing thoughts and stared down at Darien's form, smiling when she felt the shoulder under her hand begin to move slightly. She reached for the top of the covers and pulled them down, revealing Darien's sleepy face. His hair, which hadn't been styled in a week, hung limply over his forehead, nearly covering up the brown eyes that were staring back up at her.

"Hey," he whispered with a small smile.

Claire moved a piece of hair out of his face and returned the smile. "Hey. How are you feeling?" she asked.

Darien shrugged. "Dizzy, weak, sore, the usual."

"Do you want something to drink or eat? It might help with your strength," said Claire.

"Some water would be good," answered Darien.

Claire left his side and returned a few seconds later with a glass of water. She put it up to his lips and tilted his neck up so he could swallow. When he had had enough, Claire took the glass away and set it on the nightstand.

Darien patted the empty space beside him on the bed and a hopeful look spread across his face. Claire nodded and stood up, walking around to the other side of the bed and carefully getting in. Ever since Darien had been in Claire's care, he had become extremely touchy with her. He constantly was reaching for her hand or wanting her to hold him or hug him. She supposed that he was just in need of some serious comfort and she was only too happy to comply. This was something tangible she could really do for him and it seemed to make him feel better.

Claire crawled into the center of the bed and gently turned Darien's body so his head was against her shoulder. She placed a gentle kiss against his ear and then her hand drifted down to his belly, rubbing gentle rings around his navel. Darien sighed and she felt him relax into her arms.

"Can you stay here forever?" whispered Darien playfully.

"That depends," said Claire.

"On what?" asked Darien.

"When are you going to call Bobby?" asked Claire.

Darien shifted around uncomfortably. "I already told you, Keep, I'm not calling him. He obviously doesn't want to talk to me, and I'm not going to force him to do something he doesn't want to do."  
"You men," Claire paused "actually… let me rephrase that…you boys… are so immature."Darien snorted. "Oh are we now?"

"If you both weren't the most stubborn people on the face of this earth, you would have made up by now," said Claire as she continued to rub Darien's stomach.

"I'm not mad at him, Claire," said Darien softly. "I just miss him, that's all. Feels like I've lost my best friend."

Claire smacked Darien's stomach. "What am I then?" she said, trying to distract him from thinking about Bobby.

"You're different, you're a chick," said Darien.

"Oh I'm a chick? What's the difference?" asked Claire.

"You can't be best friends with a chick, it just doesn't work. At some point the issue of sex is going to come up and…

Claire raised an eyebrow. "Oh really?"

"Well, it does," whined Darien.

"So a man and a woman cannot be platonic friends without sex coming into the equation, is that what you're telling me, Mr. Fawkes?" asked Claire incredulously.

Darien nodded. "Pretty much, yeah. I mean come on, I'm sure you've had some fantasies about me or Hobbes… or maybe even Eberts."

"Darien, please," said Claire.

"Are you saying you haven't?" asked Darien, a toothy grin spreading across his face that Claire couldn't see, but could detect in his tone. "Cuz I have. How do you think I got control over my…control," he added mischievously.

Claire blushed furiously. "About me?"

Darien shook his head. "No, about Eberts."

Claire smacked Darien's stomach again.

"Oww, easy, I'm a hurt man, here," said Darien, mocking pain.

Claire rolled her eyes and gently rolled Darien off of her. She turned her body so she was looking him right in the eyes. All she could see was sadness behind the brave face he was trying so desperately to put up. Dark pools of worry, guilt, pain, loss and innocence all reflected in his chocolate puppy dog eyes. She hated what she saw and she wanted to wipe it out of his beautiful eyes permanently.

"I've got an idea," she said mysteriously.

Darien huffed. "This isn't going to involve you examining my prostate again, is it? I mean it was fun once, but twice is pushing it."

Claire smiled and got off the bed. "Just stay there, I'll be right back."

"It's not like I can really go anywhere, Keep. I can barely move my head without stopping to rest," said Darien sarcastically. He sighed and closed his eyes, hearing the noise of Claire rooting around in his bathroom. "Keep, what are you doing in there?" he asked curiously.

Claire returned a second later, her arms filled with hair styling products. She dropped them on the bed next to Darien and then placed another pillow behind his head so he was up a little higher. "I'm going to style your hair," said Claire with a smile as she reached for a comb and some mouse. "I'm sick of seeing your depressed hair. It needs to be big and tall and more…more…" Claire waved her hand, trying to figure out the words she was looking for.

"Like me?" offered Darien.

"Exactly," said Claire as she rubbed the mousse through his locks and began combing them up high in the air. She reached for some gel and some hairspray and continued with the project. Fifteen minutes later, she finished. She ran back into the bathroom and came back with a mirror, handing it to Darien. "How did I do?" she asked.

Darien took the mirror and stuck it front of his face, staring in shock at the stranger looking back. His face was pale, he had a week's worth of stubble, and his eyes had huge dark circles under them despite the fact that he had been doing nothing but sleeping the last few days. His hair though, his hair was perfect. Shiny, big and happy, just how he liked it. He set down the mirror and gave Claire a grateful look. "Thank you so much," he said softly.

Claire shrugged. "It's just hair, Darien," she said as she began gathering up the beauty products.

Darien stopped her with his hand. "No, it's not just the hair. It's everything you've done. Helping me when we were are all in the Official's office, letting me puke all over you more times than I can count, saving my life, taking care of me, hugging me and trying to cheer me up every chance you get. I just wanted you to know that it means a lot to me," he said sincerely. He stared at her for a moment and then cleared his throat. "You're the only one, you know," he whispered.

Claire raised her eyebrow. "Only one what?" she asked.

Darien took a deep breath and exhaled loudly. "The only one that hasn't left me. Women, family, friends…partners. My mom, my dad, Kevin, Casey, Allianora, Kate, Jessica, Alex…Hobbes. But not you. You've been here and I just…I just need to make you understand how much I appreciate it, Claire," he finished.

Claire smiled, fighting tears. She leaned down and gave him a tight hug. "You're welcome, Darien."

Darien returned the hug and then lay back against his pillow. He yawned and his eyes started to drift shut as he suddenly began to feel very sleepy. The hair styling and all the conversation had succeeded in wearing him out completely.

Claire picked up the beauty products and returned them to their rightful spots in the bathroom. When she came out, she could tell that Darien was on the losing end in a battle with his pillow and blanket. "Darien," she whispered.

His eyes fluttered open and he looked up at her blearily. "Uh huh?" he murmured.

"I'm going to leave for a little while. I should be back in a hour or so," she said as she picked up his cordless phone on the nightstand and put it next to his head. "If you need anything, you call my cell phone, okay. Will you be all right on your own?" she asked.

Darien nodded and closed his eyes. "Bye, Keep," he murmured.

Claire leaned down and kissed him on the forehead. "Goodbye, Darien," she whispered. Claire then gathered her purse and cell phone and quietly made her way out of Darien's apartment.

**

Claire knocked on Bobby's door firmly, hearing a television blaring inside and cursing the fact that Eberts hadn't been able to keep Bobby company over the weekend because the Official was drowning him in paperwork. She could only imagine what condition she would find Bobby in.

She tapped her foot impatiently as she waited for the door to open. When it finally did, she could only step back and gasp at the person standing before her.

Bobby was a mess. There just wasn't a nice way to put it. His hair was a mess, he hadn't shaved in several days, his eyes were bloodshot from lack of sleep and his clothes were stained and torn. Looking inside the door, Claire could see that his apartment wasn't fairing much better.

"You gonna come in or are you stand and gawk?" asked Bobby in a slurred tone.

That was another thing. He reeked of cheap alcohol. There were empty beer cans, and whiskey and vodka bottles all over the apartment. Claire gave him a worried look. "I hope you're not drinking all this on your meds," she said.

"Haven't been taking the meds, Keep. Don't really see the point," said Bobby as he sat down on his couch and stared at the basketball game playing on his screen.

"Bobby, it wasn't your fault. None of it was you fault," said Claire gently as she shoved away some beer cans and took a seat next to him.

Bobby shook his head and glanced at her. "How's Fawkes?" he asked, a tinge of the real Bobby Hobbes making its way into the statement.

"Why don't you come by and see for yourself," said Claire.

"Did he send you here? Is that why you're here? You don't give a damn about me!" yelled Bobby.

Claire sighed. "Bobby, that's not true and you know it. I'm worried about you. Everyone's worried about you. You haven't been to work. You haven't called me. You haven't visited your partner once. What's going on?" she asked.

Bobby snorted and reached for a half-empty can of beer. "Why don't you tell old Fawkesy to find himself a new best friend. This one just doesn't give a damn anymore," he said as he gulped down the rest of the can and threw it on the floor.

"You're such a liar," said Claire.

"What's that supposed to mean?" asked Bobby defensively.

"You care so much about him that it hurts. It kills you that you weren't the one to break, doesn't it. You made a choice, Bobby. I didn't agree with it then and I don't agree with it now, but it's not my place to judge." She paused and thought about Darien begging for his life in the Official's office. The thought infuriated her. "Or maybe it is my place to judge! You put your job in front of your friend, Bobby. Maybe that makes you a big hero. Or maybe that makes you a great big coward," said Claire with venom in her tone.

Bobby stood up from the couch and threw a glass bottle of vodka against the wall, spraying bits of glass and alcohol all over the room. "You don't know anything about it, Claire. You don't know what it's like to watch someone suffer when you know you can stop it." Bobby stopped suddenly and smacked his head with his hand. "What am I saying, of course you do. You withheld the cure for quicksilver madness for a good couple of weeks before you gave it to Fawkes. You let him suffer the pain and the fear of going permanently mad. In my mind, that makes you one cold hearted bitch, _Keepie_."

"Don't you dare put this one me. I helped Darien. I saved Darien. Alex saved Darien," screamed Claire.

"Don't you talk about her, you don't know anything about it! She didn't die in your arms!" yelled Bobby furiously.

"And it wasn't your fault, Bobby. Stop feeling sorry for yourself and get off your ass. Things have happened that you can't change. Alex is dead. She's never coming back, and I'm sorry that you had to go through that. But Darien is alive. No matter what you did or didn't do, your partner is alive. And all he wants is for you to come and see him. I don't think that's too much to ask," said Claire.

Bobby looked down and shook his head. "I can't," he whispered.

"Why? Because you feel guilty? Screw your guilt. He needs you right now. You think you let him down before? What about now? He's asking for you and you won't see him. What the bloody hell does that make you?" yelled Claire.

Bobby motioned towards the door. "I think it's time for you to leave."

Claire sighed in anger and then walked towards the door. "Just think about the guy laying in his bed across the city scared to death and missing his best friend. Think about it, Bobby!" And with that, Claire stepped out the door and slammed it behind her.

TBC


	10. Part 9

Sacrifices (9/?)

By Carol M.

See prologue for details

Note: Thanks so much for all the feedback, guys! Here's some more angst for ya…

Darien's breath tightened in his chest as he took in the sight before him. They were all there in the Official's office. His mother, his father, Kevin, Casey, Jessica, Kate, Allianora, Alex, Bobby, and Claire. Each was fastened down tightly to a chair, unable to move a muscle. Darien stood at the edge of the room, seemingly frozen in place.

Trey was there, holding his gun to Darien's mother's head. She looked at her son, tears slipping down her cheeks. "Help me, honey," she cried out.

But Darien couldn't. No matter how hard he tried to move his feet, nothing would budge. He was completely helpless and powerless to stop the situation unfolding before his eyes.

Trey glanced up at Darien and then fired the gun, killing his mother instantly. Trey stepped over to Darien's father next and pushed the gun firmly against his head. His father closed his eyes and slumped over when the bullet ripped his skull apart.

"Dad," Darien screamed as Trey suddenly morphed into Arnaud. Arnaud stepped to Kevin and put the gun to his head. Kevin's desperate eyes landed on Darien. "Please," he mouthed. But soon, his brains were also scattered against the wall.

Arnaud continued down the line, killing Casey, Jessica, Kate and Allianora. When Arnaud got to Alex, he morphed into Stark. "James," screamed Alex. But Stark shot her too.

Suddenly, Stark was Trey again as he moved to Bobby. Darien could see Bobby trying to stoically accept the fact that he was going to die. Bobby glanced at Darien and simply said, "I'll see you on the other side, partner." Soon, he too was a memory.

And then there was Claire. She was the last in line, so to speak. She was sobbing hysterical tears and her face stared at Darien's with a look of absolute horror. "Please, Darien, I don't want to die!" she screamed.

"No! Not her too," Darien heard himself scream. And suddenly, Trey turned into a silver-eyed version of himself. The silver-eyed Darien smiled at his sane counterpart and then pulled the trigger, blowing Claire's head off. 

Sane Darien stared at the carnage of the bodies of everyone he loved in the entire world strewn about the office. He watched in horror as his silver-eyed twin stepped towards him, the gun aimed at his head. "Time to join your friends, Fawkesy," said the wacked out Darien.

Sane Darien closed his eyes and waited with an almost grateful attitude for the end.

"No!" cried out Darien as he bolted upright in bed. His breath was coming hard and fast in short wheezing gasps. His vision was blurred from the tears that were flowing down his face. And worst of all, his heart ached for all the people that were gone. "Claire," he whispered wildly. He pressed his hand in the space next to him in the bed and found that it was empty. He looked over at the couch and found it empty as well.

"Claire…Claire…where are you?" he called out. "Oh god, please be okay, please be okay," he cried out. He fell back against his pillow, lacking the strength to stay up right. "Claire," he whispered pitifully.

The sudden sound of a key turning in the door caused his head to turn. "Claire?" he yelled, tears trickling out of his eyes.

Claire stepped through the door and gasped in horror when she saw Darien. "Oh my god, Darien, what happened? Are you all right," she said as she ran over to his bed.

Darien sat up again despite the protests from his weak body. "You're alive, you're alive," he cried out in relief as he reached out for her. He pulled her against him and hugged her as tight as his dwindling strength would allow.

Claire rested her head on top of Darien's head and ran her fingers through the hairs on the back of his neck. "What happened?" she asked with concern.

Darien pulled away from her and shook his head. "Nothing, nothing happened, I'm fine."

Claire sat down on the bed and took his hand. "You're not okay, Darien. You're shaking, you're crying."

Darien shook his head. "I'm fine, I'm fine," he said as he wiped at his eyes and then gazed around the room. His eyes suddenly landed on his favorite quote book sitting in a bookshelf across the room. That would make him feel better. That would calm him down. He had to get to that book. He started to push his way off the bed, despite Claire's protests.

"Darien, stop," said Claire in a confused tone. "What do you want, I'll go get you whatever you want," she said.

Darien shook his head and pushed himself off the bed. He got into a standing position and nearly ended up face first on the floor.

"Darien," said Claire as she grabbed his arm to steady him.

Darien slapped the arm away. "I can do it, damn it, I can do it," he shouted. He took a deep breath and began to slowly put one foot in front of the other, moving an inch about every five seconds. 

Claire was instantly off the bed and dragging him back towards the bed. "Darien, you're going to hurt yourself," she said as she took a hold of his arm again.

With strength Darien didn't know he had, he pulled his arm roughly from her grasp and continued walking towards the bookshelf. "I need the book," he whispered in an eerie tone that chilled Claire to the core.

Claire nodded and stepped back, giving him enough room to walk, but also allowing for space in case in started to falter.

Darien got about halfway across the room when the world suddenly started to turn upside. He started to sway on his feet and Claire knew he was about a second away from a nosedive. She instantly stepped forward and placed a hand on his back.

Darien shrugged out of her grasp and carried on, determined to make it to the book. But his body had other ideas. He took another step and then everything seemed to go black. He fell to the ground in a crumpled heap, nearly whacking his head on the coffee table. "Damn it!" he shouted hysterically.

Claire stepped forward to help him up, but Darien put a hand up to stop her.

"Don't! God, I can't even walk without your help! I can't do anything," shouted Darien, his voice quickly turning into something that sounded like a sob.

Claire stood frozen in her place, nodding her head. "Get it out, Darien," she whispered softly.

"I hate this!" he screamed, the tears once again returning to his eyes. "I want Alex back, I want Bobby back, hell I want everyone back! I didn't deserve this. Alex didn't deserve to die. It's not fair!"

"I know it wasn't, Darien," whispered Claire, tears sparkling in her own eyes.

"All for that stupid disk!" he paused and took a breath, which seemingly made him calmer. "I understand about Bobby and the code, you know. I mean, there were thousands of lives at stake and it's Bobby's job to protect the country, not just me," he said, trying to shrug it off. But his quick breaths and teary eyes told another story, something much different then what had just come out of his mouth.

Claire instantly picked up on it and nodded her head. "Say it, Darien," she whispered. "Go ahead and say it."

He looked at her and sighed, his body trembling with weakness. "Why didn't he give up the code, Claire?" he said in the most fragile voice she had ever heard him use.

She shook her head sadly. "I don't know, Darien."

"It hurt," continued Darien. "It really hurt. I'm not mad at him. I could never be mad at him. It was a brave thing what he did. But now…I mean…why isn't he here? I just want him here and he's not…and that just…it hurts."

"You have a right to be upset, Darien," whispered Claire. "In fact, I'd be worried if you weren't."

Darien started taking deep breaths, trying to calm himself down. But the more he tried to calm himself, the more upset he began to feel. And finally, something inside of him just broke and he finally let go. "God!" he screamed "I would have done it for him. Damn it, I would've done it for him! You know I would have. He's my partner. He's my friend," he said as he pounded his fists into the carpet. "Maybe everyone's right, maybe I'm not worth it. What's another dead ex-con, right?"

"Don't say that, Darien," said Claire as she stepped closer to him.

"Why did Alex break anyway? Her life was worth a hell of a lot more than mine was. She shouldn't have died for this thing, Claire. Why did it all happen?" he said gazing at her. "Huh?" he shouted.

Claire didn't respond. Instead she started to cry.

"Why can't it just go back to the way it was? I mean, it wasn't great, but it was something. It was normal. Some days it was even fun. I had partner then. I had a best friend then. I had a hot chick co-worker who wore shirts that were too tight. What's wrong with that? What's wrong with any of it? What did we do? What the hell did any of us do to deserve this?" yelled Darien.

Claire wiped at her face and stepped closer to Darien. "Things just happen, Darien. There's nothing we can do about it."

Darien paused to think about what she had just said and then nodded his head slightly. "I just want Hobbesy back."

Claire took that as her cue and stepped up to him, taking him into her arms. "I know you do, Darien," she whispered into his ear.

And then he started to sob. Harsh, loud sobs that pained her ears to hear. But it was just what he needed. He needed to deal with everything that had had happened so he could get through it. She grasped him tightly and rocked him back and forth in her arms, her handing rubbing comforting circles on his back. 

After awhile, she half dragged, half carried his broken body to the couch and sat back heavily against the cushions, letting Darien lay out across her body. Darien put his head in her lap and wrapped his arms around her waist, still sobbing. "I'm sorry," he kept whispering over and over again. "I'm so sorry for being like this."

Claire leaned down and kissed the top of his head. "Don't be sorry. You've been through hell. You need a shoulder to cry on and I'm glad to be that shoulder. Honored, in fact."

This only managed to make Darien cry harder as he curled farther into her lap. Claire was crying now as well. Crying for Darien, crying for Alex, crying for Bobby and crying for herself. She supposed she and Darien were lucky in a way. They had each other. And while she would probably never admit it to him, she needed Darien just as much as he needed her.

The simultaneous sobbing continued for another 45 minutes, gradually dying down into sniffles and hiccups for both of them. Darien removed his arms from her waist and let them drape down at his sides. He rolled his body so be was able to look up at Claire's face. "Keep," he sniffled, reaching his hand up to touch her cheek and wipe her tears away.

Claire smiled slightly and reached her own hand down to his face, wiping his tears away as well. Then she moved her hand to his hair and began running her fingers through it, massaging his scalp. "You should get some rest," she whispered in a tired voice.

He nodded slightly and wiped at his nose, sniffing hard to get rid of the evidence of his tears.

"Bed?" asked Claire as she gently lifted him off of her so she could get up and then lay him back against the couch.

Darien weakly shook his head, his eyes drifting shut. "Can't make it," he murmured. "You take it."

Claire nodded and left his side, returning moments later with a spare blanket and pillow. She carefully placed the pillow under his head and then wrapped the blanket tightly around his body.

"Thanks," he whispered.

"Goodnight, Darien," said Claire as she leaned down and kissed his cheek.

Darien smacked his lips. "Night, Claire," he said in a child-like voice.

Claire watched him until he relaxed into sleep and then slowly made her way over to his bed. She took off her shoes and crawled under the covers, her nose smelling Darien's scent on everything she touched. She wrapped the blankets around herself and inhaled, letting his scent penetrate deep inside her brain. She let the comforting scent lull her into the deepest sleep she had had in a week.

**

Hours later across town, sleep had eluded Bobby Hobbes. In fact, sleep was the last thing on his mind. His phone had been in his hand for hours, Darien's phone number ready to be punched in at a moment's notice despite his extremely drunken state. In the other hand, was his gun, one bullet loaded into the chamber. 

His mind was a film reel, replaying images of Darien's eyes in the Official's office, begging for his life over and over again, and replaying Alex's slow, bloody fall to the ground as her body was wracked with bullets. The images mixed together in his mind causing one big reel of gruesome horror that he now realized he would never be able to escape.

He took a deep breath and made his final decision. With shaky fingers, he dialed the number he knew by heart, waiting with bated breath for someone to pickup. After three rings, someone did.

"H'llo," he heard a groggy female voice answer. Claire.

Bobby couldn't speak. His throat burned and the only sound that would come out was the soft, desperate sounds of his raspy breathing.

"Bobby, is that you?" asked Claire in a worried tone, sounding much more awake than she had even a second ago.

He took a breath and swallowed, willing his brain and his mouth to cooperate so he could speak. "Darien," he finally managed to crackle out.

He could almost see Claire nodding. "Alright," she whispered. He could hear movement and deduced that she was getting up to give the phone to Darien.

A second later, he heard his partner's voice, making his throat tighten. "Hobbes?" whispered Darien in a tone that was happiness, sadness, anger and relief all in one word.

Bobby swallowed again, a huge lump forming in his throat. "I'm…I'm sorry, partner," he whispered, his voice threatening to become a sob. Then he hung up the phone and looked down at his gun, his fingers tightening around the trigger.

TBC


	11. Part 10

Sacrifices (10/?)

By Carol M.

See prologue for details

On with this angsty tale…

"Hobbes…Bobby," yelled Darien into the phone. He looked up at Claire with a haunted expression in his eyes. "I think he hung up," he said as he hung up his own phone and dialed Bobby's number. He sat anxiously waiting for his partner to pick up. One ring. Two rings. Three rings. Four rings. Five rings. 

After twenty rings, Darien finally hung up the phone. "Something's wrong, Keep. He sounded strange. He sounded really strange," he said, glancing back up at Claire.

"Do you want me to go over there and check on him?" asked Claire.

Darien thought for a moment and then shook his head. "No. We're both going over there," he said firmly as he struggled to get off the couch.

Claire instantly tried to stop him. "Whoa! Darien you're in no condition…" she stopped talking when she saw the determined look in his eye.

"He's my partner and he needs me right now," whispered Darien.

Claire slowly nodded her head. "Alright," she said as she took both of Darien's arms and helped haul him off the couch. She wrapped his arm around her shoulders, picked up her purse and carefully lead him out the apartment. They slowly made their way down the stairway of Darien's apartment and then finally, after ten agonizingly slow minutes, made it to Claire's SUV. Claire pushed Darien into the car and then quickly tore off towards Bobby's apartment.

They were there in less than fifteen minutes. Claire ran around to the passenger's side to let Darien out and noticed, much to her chagrin, that he was looking pretty green. "What's wrong?" she asked as she pulled him out of the SUV.

Darien closed his eyes for a few moments and took a deep breath. "All this activity is sort of catching up to me," he said as he slammed the door to the car and began walking towards the foyer of Bobby's apartment.

"Why don't you wait in the car?" suggested Claire.

"Uh huh, no way," said Darien as he pressed on, even though he felt like he was seconds away from passing out.

They got into the building after catching the door from behind some drunken teenagers and then carefully staggered up the steps. When they got to Bobby's apartment, Darien gave Claire a frightened glance and then knocked on the door. "Hobbes?" he yelled. No answer.

"Hobbes, come on, man, we know you're in there. It's Fawkes and the Keep, buddy, open up," he said as he knocked again. "Fine, have it your way," said Darien as he turned to Claire. "You got a pen or something?" he asked, eyeing her purse.

Claire nodded and rooted around in her purse, finally locating a cheap Bic pen. She handed it to Darien, who immediately proceeded to tear it apart. Less then 30 seconds later, he had the door unlocked. "We're coming in, Hobbes. And by the way, I'm not paying for a new lock," said Darien as he and Claire cautiously stepped through the door, eyeing the booze bottles laying all over the floor.

Darien inhaled sharply and stepped back when he finally saw Bobby. He was sitting on the couch amongst a dozen beer cans, tears streaming down his face and a gun pressed firmly against his temple. "What are you doing, Hobbes?" asked Darien as he cautiously stepped towards his partner with Claire's assistance.

Bobby stared up at Darien with a terrified look in his eye. "Get out," he said coldly through the tears.

Darien shook his head. "Nope, no way. Not until you put the gun down and talk to me, man."

"We got nothing to talk about," said Bobby.

Darien snorted. "Oh, I'd say we got plenty to talk about. Like why you're being such a selfish bastard."

"It doesn't concern you," said Bobby as he pressed the gun harder against his head and closed his eyes.

Darien suddenly stepped forward, letting go of Claire's hand. "Like hell it doesn't."

Bobby opened his eyes and shook his head. "I let you down," he said softly.

Darien nodded. "Yeah, you did."

Claire nudged Darien and gave him a look.

Darien ignored her and went on. "You almost let me die, buddy. Hell, I almost did die. But it wasn't your fault."

A twisted smile appeared on Bobby's face. "Oh yeah, then who's fault is it there genius?"

Darien shrugged. "No one's, everyone's, who knows? It was a bad deal, Hobbes. No matter how it played out, someone was gonna get screwed."

"Yeah well, it ended up being you and Alex, my friend," whispered Bobby. "I should have broke. I should have told him. I should have told him," he cried out as the tears started falling from his eyes.

"Bobby," whispered Claire as she stepped towards him.

"Stay back!" yelled Bobby suddenly as he took the gun away from his head and pointed it at Claire. "Just stay the hell back!"

"What are you gonna do Hobbes? You gonna kill us both? Then what, huh? Oh, yeah you'll just kill yourself and all your problems will be over," said Darien.

Bobby pointed the gun at Darien. "You got any other suggestions?"

Darien nodded. "Yeah, how bout you put down the gun and talk to me about this like we should have done a week ago."

Bobby smiled and then quickly put the gun back against his head. "Talk is cheap, Fawkes. Besides, I got plenty of voices to talk to inside my head. They tell me all I need to know."

"Like what?" asked Darien.

"Like I let down my partner and my best friend. That I let Monroe get turned into Swiss cheese. That I don't deserve to live. What good an agent am I if I can't protect the people I care about most in this world?" cried Bobby.

"The kind who risks the lives of a few to save the lives of many. And Bobby, that's not such a bad thing, man. Yeah, I'm pissed off at what you did to me. It hurt like hell, man. But you had a good reason for what you did and I understand that. And Monroe… that wasn't your fault, buddy, it was just bad luck," said Darien.

Tears started to flow down Bobby's face at a rapid pace. "I can't do this, Fawkes. I can't live with this pain. I let you down, I her down, I let everyone down."

A lump started to form in Darien's throat and he realized with some surprise, that his tear ducts had not yet run out of tears as his vision started to blur. "You do this, and you really will let me down, Bobby. Don't do this to me. I can't lose someone else I love," whispered Darien.

"You don't love me! You hate me! How can you love me after what I did to you?" yelled Bobby, the gun tightening against his head. "I'm so sorry, Fawkes," he said, staring intensely at Darien. His gaze shifted to Claire. "Take care of him, Keep," he whispered softly as his finger tightened against the trigger, ready to blow his brains out.

"No!" cried Darien and Claire as they both dived towards Bobby. Darien managed to push the gun out of his hand just as Bobby's finger pressed down on the trigger. The gun went flying across the room and the bullet harmlessly impacted the ceiling. Darien, Claire and Bobby all went crashing to the floor, tangled in one another's arms. Bobby stared at Darien in shock and then a look of realization hit his face.

"I'm sorry," whispered Bobby as he grabbed a hold of Darien. "I'm so sorry, Darien…Claire… for everything. I'm sorry."

Darien pulled Bobby against his body and hugged his partner, who had started sobbing like a baby. Claire got up and gave Bobby a gentle pat on the back. Then she disappeared into his bedroom to give the partners some privacy.

Bobby held on to Darien for the better part of an hour, sobbing and apologizing and just taking comfort in the warm body of his partner that was still amongst the land of the living. When he finally managed to calm himself down, he pulled away from Darien and gasped when he realized that Darien was unconscious. "Keep," yelled Bobby. "Something's wrong with Fawkes!" he yelled in terror.

Claire ran out of the bedroom and immediately went to Darien, confirming that he was indeed unconscious. She checked his pulse and his breathing and then gave Bobby a calm smile. "He's okay. He just passed out. He's exhausted. He'll be just fine," she said gently.

"We can put him in my bed," offered Bobby as he continued to sniffle.

Claire nodded and picked up Darien's feet, while Bobby grabbed his shoulders. Together, they hauled him into Bobby's bedroom and tucked him into bed. When they were done, they both walked into the living room and stared awkwardly at one another. Claire was the first to speak. "Look…Bobby…I'm sorry for saying all that stuff I said before. I was just really angry, and I wanted to hurt you and make you realize what you were doing. I didn't mean for you to do," she pointed at the bullet hole in ceiling, "this."

Bobby shook his head. "I didn't do that because of what you said. I did it because I was so terrified of dealing with Fawkes and everything else. I handled everything wrong and if I could go back in time, I would change everything I did, Claire, believe me."

Claire nodded. "Yeah, me too," she said, looking down at her feet. "Are you going to be okay?"

Bobby thought for a minute and nodded. "I will be," he answered softly as he leaned forward with his arms outstretched, wanting a hug.

Claire obliged and gave him a tight squeeze, burying her head into his neck. "What a week, huh?" she said.

"No kidding, Keep," said Bobby.

They parted from the hug and Bobby pointed towards the couch. "If you clear off the beer cans, there's actually a pretty comfortable fold out bed right there," he said. He nodded towards the bedroom. "I'm gonna go in there and watch Fawkesy, make sure he's okay."

Claire's face broke out into a big smile. "It's about time, Bobby."

Bobby cracked a smile and nodded. "Yeah." Bobby disappeared into his bedroom to watch over his partner, while Claire waded through a pile of beer cans to locate the soft bed and then once again, fell into a blissfully deep sleep.

**

Darien awoke the next morning with a muffled groan. He smacked his lips and reached his hand on the other side of the bed, trying to find Claire. "Keep," he murmured when he felt a warm body and gently moved his hand up her back and into her hair. But suddenly, Claire was bald. "Ah!" screamed Darien in surprise as he turned his head to see the face of Bobby Hobbes looking back at him. "Hobbes, what the hell are you doing?"

"Sleeping in my bed, just like you," he answered in a slightly irritated tone.

Darien groaned and turned on his side, his back facing Bobby. "Where's Claire?"

"She went home to freshen up and get some more stuff to bring to your place. She'll be back in a little while," said Bobby as he stared up at the ceiling. He snuck a glance at Darien and then looked back up. "You and the Keep got something going on the side that I should know about?" he asked in a slightly jealous tone.

"Just shut up, Hobbes," said Darien.

Bobby smiled for a moment and then a serious expression spread across his face. "So I guess you're mad at me, huh?" he said.

Darien smiled slightly. "Yeah, a little."

"Suppose you want a new partner now, since this once pretty much screwed you over," said Bobby hesitantly, afraid of what the answer might be.

"Now why would I want to do something like that?" asked Darien.

"Because I let you down. Nearly got you killed," said Bobby.

"Yeah well, I'm alive. I guess that's all that matters. Besides, I fully intend on milking this for all it's worth. You're gonna be buying my lunches and dinners for the next year, my friend," said Darien.

"Yeah, let me guess, you're gonna acquire a sudden taste for lobster tails and steak," said Bobby.

"You know me so well," said Darien. He closed his eyes for a minute and then opened them, clearing his throat slightly. "Hey Hobbes," he whispered.

"Yes Fawkes?" responded Bobby.

"Did Monroe…did Monroe go quick?" asked Darien.

"No," replied Bobby, his voice sounding stiff and reserved.

"Was she in a lot of pain?" asked Darien, sounding a little choked up.

"I don't think so, man. She was pretty much out of it. She did have something she wanted me to tell you though," said Bobby.

"What?" asked Darien.

"She said that you're worth more than you know," said Bobby.

"Wow," said Darien.

"That's not the best part though. She also confessed to having a crush on Eberts," said Bobby.

Darien laughed slightly. "Eberts? As in Albert Eberts?"

"The one and only," replied Bobby.

"God, just when you think you know somebody," said Darien.

"No, kidding, right," said Bobby. "She was a tough broad. I'm gonna miss her like hell."

"Yeah, me too," answered Darien. "She never let us get away with any crap."

"She was the best," said Bobby.

"Definitely," said Darien.

"A class act," said Bobby.

"The Mata Hari, herself," offered Darien.

Bobby smiled. "If she was here right now, she would be rolling her eyes in that pissed off way she used to do."

"You got that right," said Darien.

They were both silent for a few minutes, listening to the sounds of one another's breathing. Finally, Bobby spoke up. "So are we okay?"

Darien thought for a moment. "Yeah, we're okay. What about you? Are you going to make it through all of this?

Bobby sighed. "Yeah. I just gotta pop a few more pills and make a few appointments with the shrink, and I think Bobby Hobbes will be good as new. What about you, man? You gonna survive?"

Darien buried his face into the pillow. "I think I need to sleep for about a month and then I'll be on the road to recovery."

Bobby nodded, staring at Darien's back. "Yeah," he said with a heavy sigh. "Fawkes…Darien…I really am sorry man."

Darien slowly turned around and looked Bobby in the eyes. "I am too, man. Partners?" he asked as he stuck out his hand.

A large smile spread across Bobby's face. "Partners" he said as he slapped Darien's hand. He studied Darien's pale, stubble-covered face and pushed him back against the pillow. "Get some sleep, kid. You look like hell."

Darien rolled his eyes and pressed his head into the pillow. "Yeah well, you're no beauty queen yourself, Hobbesy," he said as his eyes drifted shut.

"Why you…" Bobby stopped when he realized Darien was sound asleep again. He tucked the blankets tighter around Darien's body and then got out of the bed. "Sleep well, partner," he said as he gave Darien a gentle pat on the arm and then walked out of the room to go wait for Claire.

TBC (yes, there's more, maybe another part and an epilogue)


	12. Epilogue

Sacrifices (Epilogue)

By Carol M.

See prologue for details

Note: So this is it. Sad to see this one go, I really had a good time writing it. Thanks for all the reviews and feedback everyone, I really appreciate it. Up next from me, a couple of Devil's Silver stories, an entry for crimsoneyez fan fic contest, which I will post sometime in April, and for those interested, a Prey fic I've been working on (thanks for the angsty fics Allianora2!) So with that, I leave you with the epilogue to this one. Sorry for all the angst, but I know you all secretly love it. And just remember, while we may not have I-man right now, we will always have Darien, Bobby, Claire, Alex, the Official and Eberts in not only our minds, but in our hearts as well. Enjoy the last part!

Three Weeks Later

Darien lay on his bed flipping absently through the channels of his television, not really paying any attention to what he was watching. It had been a tough couple of weeks. After reuniting with Bobby, his full concentration had been switched to getting himself better. After a lot of sweat, tears, a few cases of vomiting and some good hearted swearing, Darien had done just that. And through it all, he and Bobby had managed to repair their damaged friendship. 

While Darien had been physically healing, Bobby had been mentally healing. They were both doing so well that Claire had pronounced them both in good enough condition to return to work the next day. Of course for Darien it was only for half-day desk duty, but it was still great progress. Claire also had announced that it would be her last night staying with Darien. That bit of information had hit him right in the stomach for some reason and it had left him feeling slightly depressed. Darien sighed heavily at the thought and went back to pretending to watch a rerun of Prey.

Claire was in the kitchen making spaghetti for the both of them. She kept glancing at Darien, who had been unusually quiet all day. Finally, after a half-hour of complete silence, Claire spoke up. "Darien, what's wrong?" she asked with her hands planted firmly on her hips.

Darien looked up at her with his eyebrows raised. "Huh?"

Claire sighed. "That's exactly my point. No big words, no clever puns or anecdotes. What's going on?" she asked as she started spooning the spaghetti onto plates.

"I don't know what you mean?" said Darien innocently.

Claire rolled her eyes. "Never mind. Come here, it's time to eat."

Darien shuffled out of bed and moped over to the kitchen, sitting down at the bar. Claire placed a plate of steaming hot spaghetti in front of his face. She sat down next to him and the pair began to eat in awkward silence.

"I think I've got all my stuff together," said Claire after a few minutes as she piled a heap of spaghetti onto her fork.

"Oh," said Darien dryly. "That's good."

Claire slammed her fork down on her plate. "All right, out with it."

"Out with what?" asked Darien, stuffing his face with spaghetti.

"Why are you mad at me?" asked Claire.

Darien pointed at himself. "Who me? Why the hell would I be mad at you? You saved my life and kept me from descending into a black hole of depression and boredom. I'm grateful to you," he said, his eyes wide.

"Uh huh. I don't buy it," said Claire in a slightly smug tone.

Darien took a deep breath and then slammed down his own fork. "Fine, all right, you caught me."

Claire raised her eyebrows. "Caught you?"

Darien's expression softened and he looked down at his feet. "I don't want you to leave."

"What?" asked Claire.

Darien looked up and met her eyes. "I said, I don't want you to leave."

Claire gave him a confused glance. "I don't understand. Are you still feeling sick? Do you want me to stay a few extra days?"

Darien stood up from his chair, very pissed off. "No I don't want you to stay a few extra days."

"Then what? What do you want me to do?" shouted Claire, also standing up.

"You really want to know?" asked Darien.

Claire nodded. "Yes I do."

"Fine," said Darien. He stepped to Claire, grabbed her waist and dipped her halfway to the ground before planting a firm kiss against her lips. He gently pulled her back up and gave her a nervous glance. "I want you to stay here with me," he said softly.

Claire, who was flushed and breathing heavily, tried to play it nonchalant. "So you want me to live with you?"

Darien nodded. "Yes."

"As what exactly?" asked Claire.

"As friends," replied Darien softly. "I love having you here, Keep. You entertain me, cheer me up, do my laundry, make me cookies. I'm less lonely because of you."

"Darien," said Claire, dragging his name out.

Darien brought out the full on puppy dog eyes. "Please?" he whimpered.

Claire smiled. "Where would I sleep?"

Darien nodded towards the bed.

Claire raised an eyebrow. "In your bed?"

"Hey, Claire, I would be a perfect gentleman. Unless of course you didn't want me to be," said Darien with a sly grin.

Claire looked down at the floor, smiling slightly. "Truth is, I kind of didn't want to leave."

"Well see, there you go," said Darien. "Please, come on. We'll be roomies. In the morning we can do our hair together and in the evenings we can bitch about the Official and gossip about Hobbes and Eberts. Oh, oh, and I'll even cook for you. Now come on, what chick could resist that?" asked Darien.

Claire sighed heavily and finally after several long minutes looked up. "All right."

"All right?" said Darien.

"We'll try it," said Claire. "But Darien, if anything funny goes on then I…"

"Don't even say it," interrupted Darien. He cleared his throat awkwardly and nervously met her eyes. "You know that kiss before, it was just…just…"

"A friendly kiss?" offered Claire.

"Exactly. A thank you kiss," said Darien.

"You know there's just one small problem with all of this," said Claire.

"What's that?" asked Darien.

"Pavlov," said Claire.

"Oh right, Pavy. Well the little monster can be our third roommate," said Darien.

"Really?" said Claire.

"Yeah," said Darien. He reached his arms out and pulled her into an embrace. "Thanks for this."

Claire smiled against his shoulder. "You're welcome."

The pair broke apart from their hug and continued eating dinner, planning how they would fit all of Claire's stuff into Darien's apartment. They spent the rest of the evening watching the Home Shopping Network before clamoring into Darien's bed in exhaustion.

The next morning, they both prepared to return to work for the first time in nearly a month. They both took extra care in the bathroom, making sure they looked their absolute best. Then they left Darien's apartment in Claire's SUV, heading out to a flower shop. After a half-hour of searching, they each found exactly what they were looking for. Claire selected two bouquets of white and pink roses, while Darien settled for two bouquets of sunflowers. They quickly paid for their flowers and got back in the SUV, both anxious to go visit some family.

They arrived at Francine Jefferson Memorial a little after 8 a.m. The sun was just starting to rise high in the sky and it's bright intensity made the beads of dew on the ground sparkle. They both quietly made their way over to Alex and Kevin's tombstones.

Darien stepped up first, setting the two bouquets on each of their graves. He stepped back and let Claire do the same. She set down the flowers and then stepped back next to Darien, sighing with sadness. They each stood in silence, staring back and forth between Alex and Kevin's tombstones, memories and unspoken words running through their heads. They stood there for nearly a half hour until somebody snuck up on them from behind.

"Fancy seeing you two here," said Bobby as he came up behind them.

Claire and Darien both jumped and turned around. "How did you know we'd be here?" asked Darien.

Bobby smiled and set the two small American flags he had been carrying next to the tombstones. "I'm your partner, I'm supposed to know these things."

Darien nodded. "Yeah."

"Some good people buried right here," said Bobby.

Claire nodded. "The best."

"Heroes," came a voice from behind.

The trio turned around and saw the Official come up behind them with Eberts in tow, who was carrying an armload of flowers.

Darien shook his head in confusion. "Do I have a tracking device on me that I'm not aware of?"

The Official smiled slightly. "Eberts," he said as he motioned towards the graves.

Eberts diligently placed two gigantic bouquets of yellow roses on Alex and Kevin's graves.

The Official stepped in between his employees and cleared his throat. "I want to apologize to all of you. That includes Monroe," he said, glancing sadly at her tombstone.

Darien and Bobby both exchanged curious looks. "Wow, this is a first. You're actually sorry for something," said Darien sarcastically.

The Official looked down at his feet and nodded. " I never should have put you people in the position you were in and for that I apologize. It cost a good agent her life and nearly cost you yours, Darien. I want you to know that none of what took place was personal. I care a great deal not only about you, but Mr. Hobbes, Ms. Keeply and Mr. Eberts as well. So with that, I would like to say it's good to have you all back."

Darien, Claire, and Bobby all exchanged smiles before looking back at the Official. "So does that mean we all get raises?" asked Darien.

The Official scowled. "Do you think I have the budget to give you a raise? I don't even have the budget to give myself a raise."

"Just checking, sir," said Claire.

The Official glanced once more at the graves and then sighed. "All right people, back to work. Life goes on," he said as he started walking away from the plots. "Eberts."

"Right behind you, sir," said Eberts. He started walking to catch up to the Official and then turned around briefly, staring at Alex's grave. He blew it a kiss and a soft smile formed on his face. Then he turned back around and followed the Official towards the parking lot.

"Well I guess that's our cue," said Darien as he glanced at Claire and Bobby. 

Claire and Bobby both nodded. "Yeah," said Bobby.

"Can I get a minute, guys?" asked Darien.

"Yeah, partner," said Bobby as he patted Darien on the back. He glanced once again at the graves and then extended his hand towards Claire. "Ready, Keep?"

Claire nodded. "Yeah." She grabbed his hand, blew a kiss towards the graves and then let Bobby lead her towards the parking lot.

Darien watched them leave and then looked back at the graves with tears in his eyes. He sat down in the space between the two tombstones and sighed. "I should be here instead of you guys," he whispered softly. "Both of you saved my life. I still don't why. I guess I'll never know. But I want to thank both of you," he whispered as a tear ran down his cheek. "I know I'm not perfect, but from now on, I'm really going to make an effort to be a good person and do the right thing," he said, a small smile appearing on his face. "Well, most of the time," he added slyly.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out two photos. One was of Darien and Kevin when they were both young boys, the other was of Alex with the rest of the gang at Bobby's birthday party. He set the pictures down on their respective graves. "Don't forget me. I'll never forget either of you."

And with that, Darien stood up, wiped at his tears and stuck his hands in his pockets, taking one last glance at the tombstones. Then he slowly turned around and walked towards the parking lot, thankful for his life and thankful that Kevin wasn't alone anymore.

That's All Folks!


End file.
